The Gingerbread Dragon
by Riraberr
Summary: Gingerbread and Dragons. Two things that were never meant to come together will create a force to be reckoned with, but can it work in a time of darkness? This is the story of the Gingerbread Dragon. You're gonna need a glass of milk for this one.
1. Egg

Whoa. Slow down. I changed my name. Yes. Also... _THIS ISN'T NARUTO RELATED._

This is Harry Potter. My other love. I was reading a Dracoginny that had it's good points. A lot of good points. But I thought I could do the same couple differently. Perhaps better, perhaps worse.

This is the product of that thought.

I apologize for those having put me on their "Watch this reader!" lists if you don't like Harry Potter. But if you have it in your heart to step away from anime, I'm still the same writer. This is only a different topic.

This story is narrated using free indirect discourse, which means that, although the all-knowing narrator speaks in the third person, they often relates things from the point of view of whoever the segment of the chapter focuses on and describes things in language one might imagine Draco or Ginny using. This is my most used literary tool, as the narrator of the story and the main characters blend with the narrator at certain points. So there's that. Just defining it to you readers.

I feel it allows the readers to understand the characters more, especially ones so complex as Ginny and Draco.

Phew. Now that I understand and can put to words my literary styles, I feel like I should say them. Bwahahaha!

Ho hum.

Love you guys.

* * *

Dear Diary,

My name is Ginny Weasley. I'm 5' 3", with flaming, long, wavy hair and hazel eyes yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I'm me. Deal with it.

I'm really not the type of girl who has a diary. I say (often yell) my thoughts out loud, so I don't have to write them in a cute little journal. I pull pranks and actively participate in "not sober in school" activities. I know what you're thinking: _Why is she writing in a diary then?_ Well, the answer is simple. Because I'm mad.

Mad mad mad.

Can I say something confidential? _Why yes Ginny, you may. This is a secret diary after all! _Thanks!

I'm not talking to myself, I'm talking to my _diary_, duh. It's funny, in my mind, when I suddenly write in cursive, indicating the diary-voice, I totally imagine a man speaking. Like a very proper, well-bred englishman.

Moving on. Confidentiality coming up.

Harry Potter is a bad kisser.

Whaaaaat? Who said that?

_There's no way that could be true. He's the hero of the world, after all! He's automatically good at bloody everything!_

I tell you, diary, it's true. This terrible fact leads to my anger. When we're snogging, I can just barely get into it because I'm thinking: this bloody sucks. The situation sucks, but he doesn't. I mean like, he **can't** suck. He has no suction power.

I know, I know, it's just a thing that humans do, right? Sucking, say, through a straw? I know Harry had a terrible upbringing, but I refuse to believe that he never learned to suck on a straw. He was trying to give me a hickey the other day and it was weird. He was just kinda licking. And when he gets to my boobs? More of that "kinda licking". No fun, this bloke.

Oh yeah, I'm dating Harry Potter. Bullocks, I'm bad at this narrator thing. I just assume you know what I'm thinking at all times. Which technically you do, because you **are** me? Something like that.

At first it was all, Ohemgee Harry Potter lieks me he's the greatest evaa! (Complete with a lack of punctuation and spelling). Yes, I was a smitten kitten for 6 years. But I never for a second imagined that he'd be a shitty kisser.

I'm trying to kind of teach him and stuff but to no avail. He just assumes he's doing everything right, probably thinking, "Since I'm Harry Potter, everything I do is perfect!"

Go pitch that to Romilda Vane, Harry.

We've boyfriend and girlfriend, but we've never gone on a date. He just started liking me and I, being infatuated, completely welcomed it. And then BAM we're connected. We don't even really spend time together. I'm just this object he takes out all his many many problems on. "Ginny, my head hurts... Ginny, I don't want to do this anymore... Ginny, you don't understand!"

That's mainly the reason I'm mad, not the bad kissing.

And so I'm going to break up with him.

Whoa. I had no intention of breaking it off with him when I started writing this. But... I know I want to. I know I'm done. Maybe writing out your thoughts is good. It led me to a place I needed to get to.

I'm not okay with him just taking things out on me. As if no matter what, I'll stay by his side. Sorry, babe, but I was never part of the Golden Trio, so my life does not revolve around you.

I'm not your thing. I'll define myself, thankyouverymuch.

The infatuation has passed. I'm not blinded anymore. I love and admire him, but more as a friend. I know that now. If I break up with him, he'll have one less responsibility, which quite frankly is good news for the future of the world.

Perhaps I'm being selfish. Voldemort is out there and everything, and he has to find the Horcruxes. There are bigger problems than mine. But I'm not going to wait to have all of his attention. I'm not going to wait to be prioritized.

I'm prioritizing myself, seeing as no one else bloody seems to. He's not the only one allowed to save the world. Other people can be heroes too, I'll show him.

Dear Harry-pie,

I'm not your punching bag. And if I were, I'd charm myself a pair of legs and walk away. That's what I'm doing. So I guess I _was_ your punching bag. Now I'm one with legs, and I'm leaving to save the world.

XOXO, Ginners.

That's exactly what I'm going to say. I'm going to memorize that and say it to him next time he takes his anger out on me.

He has to learn that good things don't just fall into his lap. Responsibility is a big thing. And I'm responsible for my own happiness.

Oooh, I'll say that too!

We owe that to each other, I think. He has his commitments to being the hero of the world, and I have mine towards myself.

THANK YOU, DIARY-MAN, FOR GIVING ME A CONSTRUCTIVE OUTLET.

This punching bag is walking on her own. I'm not just what Harry Potter and my family want me to be. I'll find my own way.

Till next time.

* * *

Draco Malfoy took his platinum blonde head off the Slytherin table in the Great Hall sleepily, bleary eyes taking in a sight he didn't want to.

"Drakiiiiiiiiiie! You're awake!"

That being the inhumanly chipper face of Pansy Parkinson, beaming at him from across the table. It was far too early for that. Flanking her were Crabbe and Goyle, trying to hold back their sniggers at the poison stare issuing from Draco's silver eyes.

Apparently the orange juice Pansy was drinking held the antidote to his poison stare, as it _had no effect_. Fuck.

"We're you waiting for me?" He asked snottily, laying his head on his arms.

"You've gotta stop staying up till dawn, mate." Blaise Zabini sat down on Draco's right side. "Doing... who, exactly?"

Draco sighed and revealed his eyes, but kept the rest of his face hidden in his elbow/pillow. He stared into the clear pitcher of orange juice aimlessly. "Stuff... wait, no, Blaise. No one. I'm just doing... stuff."

Walked into that one. Nice blokes, taking advantage of him in his sleepy state.

"Ooh! What have you been up to?" Pansy leaned over the table, just to be a few _more_ inches closer.

_Walking. Night walks are the best thing for your complexion, you know. _He considered saying that out loud, but then Pansy might take his advice and ruin her appearance even more. Being sickly pale wasn't the best look, unless you were Draco Malfoy, of course. There was definitely a rumor going around that he was a vampire, after all.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry! I'm not your bloody punching bag!"

Most of the Great Hall opened their ears to the shouting of one Ginevra Weasley. Draco had a perfect view of her where she stood, across the Gryffindor table from Potter. He could see him draw back in surprise, but not his face. That would have been priceless.

"And if I were, I'd charm myself a pair of legs and walk away." The Little Weasley was no longer shouting, but just informing. Still, her hair was riled up, indicating the magical storm of emotion inside. Draco looked at her, knowing no one would see him doing it.

She was beautiful.

"That's what I'm going to do. I _was_ your punching bag. Now I'm a punching bag with legs, and I'm leaving to save the world."

Draco stifled a chuckle. What an eloquent girl. Well, young woman suited her better. Looking around the hall, he saw that everyone was listening now. Good. That made it more embarrassing for the wonderful Harry Potter.

_Wait, she's breaking up with him!_ He realized with a start. Hey, he was sleep-deprived.

"Ginny, wait a sec--" Potter made out, still sitting as the criminal under the megaton force of Judge Ginevra.

"Responsibility is a big thing, Harry." she interrupted lightly, but her hair still floated about. Very magically powerful, that one. "We owe it to each other to uphold our own commitments."

"You are responsible for being the hero of the world. That leaves no time for something like you and me. I'm responsible for my own happiness, so I'm breaking this off." She finalized with a nod and a pretty smile. "Oh, and you have egg on your lip."

Unable to take that last bit, Most of the Slytherin table burst out laughing with the exception of their resident blond. Draco could see Potter's ears turn red, a fraction of the heat on his face. _Sucks for Potter. The Little Weasley has got a rack._

"See you later, Harry." She nodded, her hair finally deflating to it's normal, albeit large volume.

As she left there was a chorus of "Sucks, Potter..." and other, far cruder comments from his table, and Draco sighed. Embarrassment for Potter no longer held the same charm, or any at all, anymore. _This school is too high on gossip. There are other things to think about, you know..._ His eyes drifted to his left forearm. _Potter and Little Weasley aren't the only ones with commitments._

Harry Potter needed to save the world, Ginny Weasley needed freedom, and Draco Malfoy needed to get out of this with his life.

Starting with kicking arse on his NEWTs. Maybe if he showed himself as not another pawn, he's be better off. Meaning becoming a scholastic powerhouse. His night walks ended with night spell practice and study in the room of requirement. He was more focused in the late hours of the day, in the darkness and could listen to himself, and realize what he really wanted.

It certainly was no longer his father's acceptance. Nor the power promised by the Dark Lord. It was simply... to be free of expectations and plans. To find his own way.

"Draco, mate, we've got Potions in 5 minutes." Blaise called, shoving him a little.

Drawn out of his thoughts, Draco stood up and stretched. He recently became very good at potions. He always had it in him, but since first year he had competed against Potter and never did it for himself. That had changed as of late.

So had he.

* * *

Ginny walked (late) into Double Charms to a grand applause from the Slytherins there. _Oh grand, I share this class with all the snakes. _

"Weasley... well done. To think a blood traitor would break Potter's heart--"

"--Did you see his face--"

"--Egg on his lip, bloody fantast--"

"--This boy here'll treat you right, ba--"

"--Cheers to you, miss."

Striding to her spot confidently, she turned to them with a cute smile. "I did it all for you guys."

She didn't mind the Slytherins sometimes. Ginny prided herself on her ability to be open minded with people around her. Being in Slytherin didn't make you bad. Yes, some of the comments were shitty, but that only came from one person in the class anyway. The jealous bitch. _Sorry for being prettier than you, skank._

Adorable Professor Flitwick started the lesson at that moment, cutting short the cheering. Taking a deep breath she began taking notes on the lecture, but found her concentration slipping.

She did not regret it. Her mind, body, and heart supported it. It was logical, it would allow him to pay attention to saving mankind. Good. She smiled to herself. There was a load off her shoulders now. Ginny felt like she could fly. In fact...

_I take a good night fly around the school tonight. That sounds bloody fantastic. _

A tad bit happier at the prospect, Ginny lapsed into a contented stupor. She watched as Flitwick levitated himself to be able to point at a high part of the chalk board. Cute.

What did she want now? A boyfriend? Hell the bloody fuck no. There certainly was something she wanted that Harry could never give her. Oh yes. A good hook up. An orgasm. Yum. She curled her toes at the thought.

But who? For historical reasons she didn't want to dabble in the Gryffindor house. Harry was there, as was Ron. She had dated a 7th year Ravenclaw for a brief spell last year, so she wasn't shy to the prospect of another house. But the question of the boy still loomed.

As she sorted through her mental list of snog-worthy boys, a paper bird flew into her eyesight. Snapping out of her reverie, she saw it land on her desk and flap it's wings before turning back into a still origami bird. Without looking for the sender, she unfolded it in her lap, taking care not to rip it.

_If you ever need a quickie, I'd treat your hot arse right. Just say the word. _

_-R.W._

Sighing, Ginny looked over to the Slytherin side of the room, seeing Rowan Walker make a kissy-face at her. She was not in the mood for this.

She raised her hand lightly, catching Flitwick's attention.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny smiled her cutest smile. "Mr. Walker gave me this to give to you." With a hidden tap of her wand, the creases disappeared and the note sealed itself with her conjured wax.

"Did he, now?" Flitwick's small eyes darted to Walker before waving his wand, summoning the note from Ginny's outstretched hand.

The horror on Walker's face made her almost start laughing, but she held it in. Instead upholding a look of polite curiosity, Ginny said, "He wanted to make sure it got to you, sir."

Walker's face was white as parchment. Tiny professor Flitwick read over the note with no discernible expression on his wrinkled face.

"Detention, Mr. Walker. And 50 points from Slytherin. Such pranks are... are..." he adorably struggled for the words, "... perverse and horrid! You are to report to Mr. Filch for your detention at 8 o'clock. Disgusting."

Ginny could barely hold it in now. She had to hold her breath and clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Her neighbor Gryffindor, Melanie Meadows, began to catch on.

After throwing a smirk to Ginny, she raised her own hand. "Professor, what did the note say?"

"Never you mind, Miss Meadows" He muttered, his ears reddening.

"Well... I heard from somewhere that the greatest punishment is public shame..." Melanie said lightly, shrugging. Ginny liked her. Mel was one of the friends she had always could count on. They shared a dorm. She had brown hair cut into a bob, with straight-cut bangs going to her eyebrows, blue eyes, and a thin body.

Flitwick considered her statement for a moment before banishing the paper back to Ginny. "Well then, Miss Weasley, will you please read this aloud to the class?"

"Yes, sir." Ginny chirped, standing up in her spot. "Ahem," She caught Walker's eye and sent him a smirk before reading out loud. "If you ever need a quickie, I'd treat your hot arse right. Just say the word. From Rowan Walker."

Mel was completely right. Public humiliation was the greatest form of punishment.

* * *

"That Weasel Girl is a dirty bitch."

Draco's ears flicked towards the conversation. _Little Weasley_ _is just the topic of today, isn't she? What did she do now?_ He wondered, taking off the book that was covering his eyes as he reclined in one of the chairs by the fire. His free hour had just begun, and he was trying to get some rest. No way that was possible _now_ with Walker and his gang making noise.

He was standing angrily, surrounded by people who came around to see what was up. "She got me a detention and 50 points docked from Flitwick. Flitwick! The softest teacher here!"

"I'm sure it was your fault, Walker." Draco muttered, sitting up in his seat and stretching.

The crowd parted as their king spoke. There was no doubt that Draco was the king of Slytherin, but Walker, his second-coming, was the prince. He was next in line, but for now couldn't go against the mighty Draco. Social structure was a funny thing.

"Well, yes, but she..." He struggled with his words, "The bitch gave Flitwick a note to her that she said was for him from me."

"What was in the note?" Draco asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, on top of someone's abandoned homework.

Walker's handsome face darkened.

"Sexual advances, I take it." He laughed, interpreting his anger correctly. "The Little Weasley schooled you, Walker."

_What a interesting girl, the Gryffindor princess._

Finally standing, Draco took one last look at Walker and his gang. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

Walker glared before motioning with his head for him and his group of 4 to go, leaving Draco alone.

"For Merlin's sake..." he muttered, running his hand through his messy locks. Walker was a handful. But he had more pressing problems.

Like, for example, how to get out of Voldemort's inner circle alive. He was in deep. Too deep. Draco had never even wanted it, really. Moved by his father's pushing and the undeniable attraction of evil, he had joined and been branded.

But killing people just... He didn't have it in him. His father beat it into him that it was a weakness he must get over. To be strong was to be able to kill, and Malfoy's were strong.

Draco thought differently.

It wasn't strength, it was fear that drove other's to kill. He didn't want to kill. Nor did he want to die. He never planned to be in this far. He needed out.

"_The only way out is to die, Draco."_ _Severus had a firm grip on his arm. It was the morning before he was due to give himself to the Dark Lord. _

_Draco looked up at his teacher with scorn. "I'm ready."_

"_You think so?" he snarled, throwing Draco's arm away as if it burned him. "Then kill me."_

"_What?" Draco asked, backing away. The cocky determination in his eyes left in the wake of surprised fear. _

"_Now."_

_They were caught in a standoff. Draco was frozen, his hand hovering over the pocket that held his wand. Severus was standing with his arms outstretched, giving him an open shot. _

_Suddenly Draco narrowed his eyes, thinking of a way to get out of this. Then imagination struck like a bolt. "I only kill for the Dark Lord. No one else."_

_A clapping was heard behind Draco, and his was was in his hand in an instant. It was his father, walking slowly towards him. _

"_You passed, Draco." He called, grinning savagely. "As Malfoys do."_

"_What do you mean?" Draco asked, lowering his wand yet keeping a tight grip. His father was in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder._

"_A test." Severus Snape said, spitting the word. "Designed by the Dark Lord and given to potential members of his... innermost circle. Only if you kill for him does he deem you worthy of his attention."_

_Draco stood there open-mouthed. In his attempt to avoid being drawn in, he had only dug deeper. _

"_Well done, son. I shall see you tonight."_

_With that, his father turned heel and left the way he came. Severus now approached his motionless student who stared at his father's retreating back. _

"_You must remember." He whispered into Draco's ear, causing him to flinch. "The only way out is to die."_

_When Draco whipped around, no one was in the dark hall. It was empty of everything but his own fear. _

To die. Severus had tried to warn him, had tried to save him, but Draco had been too frightened to see it. That was nearly 2 years ago. Nothing had changed within him save for a further abhorrence towards murder. He was in deep, surrounded by the family that raised him.

_A life of servitude, or no life at all. _He thought, laughing in bad humor. _But at least with the latter, no one else dies by my hand. _

"I don't want to die." He said aloud, putting his hands over his face. The word 'die' echoed around the common room, mocking him. Maybe he _should_ just die. End it here and now. He glanced at his wand, lying on the table.

A handy tool, the wand. It could create and it could destroy.

As long as the wielder had enough strength to do so.

_Enough of this._ He thought savagely, shaking his head as if to clear it of his suicidal thoughts. Picking up his wand and swinging his bag over his shoulder, Draco strode out of the common room.

He knew there was fire whiskey in the kitchens. Solo drinking was classy as hell, after all.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was undoubtedly a good flier. She had an amazing control over her broom to the point where her she nearly flew it on thought and will alone. It's wasn't the newest model, actually, it was Fred's old one, but it worked.

A sword in the hands of a novice is nothing against a rock in the hands of a master. Harry could fly his Firebolt and look all cool, but she doubt he would be as good as she was on her Cleansweep.

It was a little past midnight. Ginny had disillusioned her body and her broom and was currently doing tricks in the air, far above the lake. She would spin, curve, and dive, all with her eyes closed, imagining it. Suddenly she opened her eyes and flew straight up, heading towards the moon slowly.

The night was warm and a little breezy; cloudless, with a nearly full moon. Coming to a halt high in the air, Ginny simply sat and stared at the moon.

Though more of a sunny girl herself, the moon nonetheless had a dark, sort of evil attraction. Like the night. Darkness was appealing, but she preferred to stay mainly in the light. That being the reason she loved her monthly night rides. To be blanketed in darkness once in a while was new and exciting.

_Darkness and light both have their glory. _She reflected calmly, smiling. _One isn't particularly better than the other._

On a whim, she decided to fly back towards school, perhaps to lap it a few times. She was getting a little tired, anyway.

* * *

_Maybe drinking wasn't such a good idea..._Draco thought to himself lightly. He was on the roof of the astronomy tower. He wasn't drunk, but most certainly not sober.

_Then again, with one slip of the foot, I could just... die. I could be free. I'd be out. People would be saved. I'd be a hero in my own right. _He laughed without humor.

Suddenly he jumped up on the edge, showing remarkable balance despite his inebriation. Draco looked over the grounds and the surrounding mountains, then to the stars and the moon.

_I'm so small_. He thought, closing his eyes. _Inconsequential. What does one death mean to the universe? _

But, he reasoned, the universe is relative to ones self. The only world he lived in was his own, and so his death would strike a chord. Apart from the fact that he'd be dead, the people around him would be effected. Their universes would be effected.

_But at least they'd be alive. I may be forced to kill them this year. That'd cause the same universal stir. _

A calm gust of wind blew past, but he didn't lose a lick of his balance. He took a deep breath as it passed, imaging himself a part of the element itself. June birthdays do lead to an affinity with wind, to be sure. Thank you astronomy class.

He continued to take deep breaths, fighting with himself. Just one step. One small step and the fight would end. One decision. One life. One...

"Is this suicide, Mr. Malfoy?"

_Ah, it's the topic of the day, in the flesh._

_

* * *

_

For Emy._  
_


	2. Apollo

Just for your information, there is a game called Questions mentioned in this a few times. The game is literally just as the title says. You try to speak only in questions, mainly in order to give up as little information as possible. I take this to mean that the person who wins the initial game of questions, whether it goes for one line, or a while, has control over the conversation for a time. So there.

It's a personal favorite of mine.

Alright, enough of this. Game time go.

_

* * *

He continued to take deep breaths, fighting with himself. Just one step. One small step and the fight would end. One decision. One life. One..._

_"Is this suicide, Mr. Malfoy?"_

_Ah, it's the topic of the day, in the flesh.

* * *

_

"Does it _look_ like suicide?" Draco asked, opening his eyes. Completely silhouetted by the bright moon, Ginny Weasley sat atop her broom, looking ridiculously stereotypical of a witch. He saw no recognizable features with the exception of her thick, wavy hair billowing in the breeze. Yet, that voice was unmistakable. He remembered clearly two years ago when she bat-boogy-hexed him into oblivion.

"Was that sarcasm?" She countered, flying closer towards him. Now he could see her more clearly. She wore a look of edged curiosity, not anger or fear.

_We're playing Questions. _Draco realized, laughing out loud. "Why would I be sarcastic in this situation?"

"What are you doing Malfoy?" She asked, getting down to business.

"Why'd you break up with Potter, Princess Weasley?" He asked suddenly, with a kind of sincerity she wouldn't have expected to come from him.

"That wasn't the question, wasn't it?"

"Why can't we talk about it?" He asked, shrugging, bringing the near empty bottle of fire whiskey to his lips.

Ginny sighed. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Don't you want to talk about it?"

_I cannot believe this. I'm playing life-or-death Questions with Draco Malfoy. _Ginny thought, smiling in spite of herself. _I'm glad I'm high, otherwise I'd not be able to handle this._ "I'm allowed to want to be prioritized, aren't I? Isn't that enough?"

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me?" Draco parried, smirking.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Ginny exasperatedly asked.

Draco raised both hands triumphantly, the bottle held aloft. "Repetition, princess! 10 points to Slytherin."

She froze. She had repeated her question. That wasn't allowed. But now they could get down to the serious business. He was acting strangely, the reason for which was in his hand.

"You've been drinking." She declared. He imagined her putting her hand on a prominent hip had she been on the ground.

"Nay, princess, I've been _thinking_. It rhymes and is true." He said, throwing the now-empty bottle off the roof. Ginny looked down quickly, seeker-capable eyes following it as it spun down into the darkness and out of sight.

After seeing Malfoy follow the bottle with his own eyes, she was struck with a sudden idea. "Does that look fun?"

"What?" He asked, silver eyes flicking back to her brown-hazel.

"You saw that bottle. Does falling down into darkness and death sound appealing? Hmm?"

"Slytherin, 20, Gryffindor, 0. No rhetoric, princess." Draco smiled sadly. _She's pretty. _

Ginny scoffed at his antics. He continued the game of Questions just to play with her. Then again, inebriation doth make fools of us all. Her eyes flicked to his exposed left forearm, and the ugly mark.

"But," He continued, raising his arms at his sides, almost like a preacher. "That doesn't sound a bit appealing to me, no."

"Dear Merlin... sobriety just doesn't do well for conversation." She muttered, shaking her head in distaste.

"You mean me or you?" He asked, suddenly wary.

"Both." She shot him a devilish, toothy grin. "Marijuana's bloody awesome for... things."

Drunk versus high. This'll be fun.

"I have a tattoo too, you know." Ginny said suddenly, with no clear tactic. "It's on my back. Probably hurt less to get, though, considering the skin on your forearm is thin."

"You have no idea." _Where's she going with this...?_ He wondered, his handsome features contorting into a frown.

Ginny smiled, finally getting somewhere with this impossible boy. "I wanted to get mine though. I wasn't forced into it. I suppose that makes a difference when it comes to being able to embracing it--"

"I don't want to embrace it." Draco spat. "I want to be rid of it!" He froze, staring at her, clearly surprised at giving up more information than he wanted. _No more depression drinking. _

Though they didn't realize it, both were glad for the unspoken understanding between them. No one needed to bring anything up.

This was certainly different. Ginny was completely flabbergasted by Malfoy's sudden... turn. Yes, he was drunk. But he should have been mocking her, hexing her, or making disgusting sexual references at least! This depressed-silly-bordering on kind Malfoy unnerved her. But then again... she was high. And he _was_ human, right?

"If I die... than no one else dies." He continued, his voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper on the wind. "If I die, I'll get out."

"Yeah, but if you die, you're dead." Ginny said softly, simply.

…

"I suppose you're right." Draco muttered, mocking her. "That does happen sometimes, when one dies."

"Malfoy... I'm not going to argue with you about this." Ginny growled. "There's always a way out."

"Yeah, death. Why, Weasley, do you care if a stinking Slytherin dies?" He barked at her, still displaying marvelous balance.

A particularly strong gust of wind passed between them, catching both of their hair in the draft. Yet Draco didn't move. If anything, his straightened his posture to meet the breeze.

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Get on."

"Wha... what?"

She flew slowly over to where he stood, close enough that they could touch if they both extended their arms. Draco could see her face clearly now, the smattering of freckles, the long, expressive eyebrows... She had a strange sparkle in her eye that he could not place for the life of him.

They weren't friends. They weren't even acquaintances. Quite frankly they were enemies. Neither completely understood why... what was happening indeed _was_ happening. There was no Slytherin versus Gryffindor, there was no hatred or stereotypes, just two people. Two very different people in a rather precarious position.

"Get on the bloody broom, you crazy drunk." Ginny called, floating closer and turning so that his potential mounting wasn't absolutely impossible.

"Why?" He demanded, leaning away as much as he could without taking a step off the ledge.

"I thought we were done playing questions, Malfoy." She whispered alluringly, attempting a seductive smirk. That worked for a good four seconds before it slid off her face in favor of a cute, pretty smile. That sparkle in her eye was still present.

Before she even saw him move, he was on the broom, hands around her waist tightly. Draco was warm against her admittedly chilly frame. His weight was heavy against her back, and she gasped as he leaned his chin on her shoulder.

"This better be more worth it than dying, princess." He whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear.

Ginny began to fly away from the edge slowly, trying to keep a balance after the weight on the little bit of wood more than doubled. "Everything is better than dying."

Without warning, Ginny dived. Wind rushed past so loudly, neither heard the other screaming. They could see nothing in the darkness save for flashes of color as they passed illuminated windows. Draco's grip on her waist tightened for fear of being ripped off the back of the broom. Her hair billowed past his face, the smell of pine needles enticing his olfactory system. He thought quickly that it was a very unique and good choice of perfume.

The ground, though having been invisible from the tower, was a looming wall of dark death for the pair. Shouting in glee, she _sped up_ as they got lower and lower.

100 meters...

A rouge thought kept repeating in his terrified mind: _She's going to kill us both. She's going to kill us both. Gods, she's going to kill us both. _

50 meters... 25 meters.

It was _there_. Death was coming. Draco stiffened as he braced for the forthcoming impact of instantaneous death.

Ginny watched the grass speed to meet them with a frenzied happiness. _3...2..._ "One."

Feet away from certain death Ginny bottomed out and flew horizontal, both their toes skimming the grass for a moment before grabbing her load and barrel-rolling off the broom, causing the pair of them to tumble on the grass. They landed in a heap, with Draco half-way on top of Ginny, arms still clutched around her waist as if it were a lifeline.

She was laughing her cute little arse off as she attempted to wiggle out of his vice grip. Keyword: _attempted_. Noting her failure, she instead rotated so she could face him.

"Are you bloody crazy?" His whispered hoarsely, voice obviously gone from screaming like a girl. He jumped away from her as if he had been burned. "We could have _died._"

"Yeah, but we lived!" She giggled. "You didn't die, did you?"

He shook his head stubbornly.

"You didn't want to die, or so I interpreted from your... er... screams."

"I..." Draco stumbled over his words, confused to find she was right.

He was sitting awkwardly on the grass while she lied on her back, looking at the stars, giggling every now and then.

"Killing yourself would have been like that... only your heart wouldn't have been pounding in your chest now." she sat up, finding herself closer to him than she thought. Their faces were a mere foot apart.

"And your cheeks wouldn't be so flushed. They'd have been cold and clammy and... paler than usual. And--:

"--I wouldn't have lived at the end." He muttered, his eyes widening.

They were both silent before Ginny laughed. "You're drunk."

"At least I'm not divebombing, blazed on muggle drugs..." Draco muttered. Rolling his eyes. His pretty eyes.

"Hey... it's not like I do that everyday!" Ginny defended, pouting her lips.

_Oh what a pout. Those lips look like... like pink marshmallows in the shape of lips._ Yes, drunken thoughts, YES.

"Weasley... why did you help me?" he asked suddenly, frowning.

Ginny shrugged. "Because you're a human. I'm not Harry Potter, so I don't automatically hate people just because of a bloody personality test. Judgemental, narrow-minded people make me sick. They can only recognize goodness as it applies to their situation. They don't realize the relativity of good and evil." She laughed softly before looking up at him with her round eyes. "On that note... why are you being civil?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm not the guy people think I am. And I'm drunk. I just want..."

"People to stop judging you." She finished, smiling.

He stared at her. Not at her bust or her legs. Not at her lips or hair. He stared into her eyes. INTO HER SOUL.

Draco needed to get out. This was weird. Way too weird. He owed her his life. She just showed him what it was like to live. He didn't want to die. He was drunk. He was drunk. She was a Weasley.

Psh, excuses.

He stood quickly, rolling down his sleeves so that his mark was covered. "You'd better not tell people about this..." He growled, backing up.

"So long as you don't. You know... underage, illegal, suicidal activities..." Ginny muttered, standing and stretching. Though she looked nonchalant, Ginny's insides were bubbling and her heart was racing. She wasn't acting like she normally did. This was what the night did to her. And magically fed weed. "We're supposed to be enemies."

"We are enemies."

"We're _supposed_ to be." Ginny repeated, strongly. "This'll be our little secret."

* * *

Dear Diary,

I have never realized how attractive Draco Malfoy is.

Something strange just happened, and I felt the need to immediately write about it. So yes, I smoked up before I went on my night ride. Duh. And probably because of this... oh I don't know.

But wait, first things first. I broke up with Harry. It was public, and probably a really bad idea, but I just took the opportunity I was given and ran with it. He tried the, "Ginny, you wouldn't understand. Let's just keep hooking up and I'll continue to use you for my punching bag." Ok, well he only said the first part of that.

It was in the Great Hall. At breakfast. Everyone who was hungry that morning saw it happen. The Slytherins mocked him, every single one of them.

Except Malfoy. He was just looking at me with a curious expression. He wasn't verbally destroying Harry, as his previous 6 years at Hogwarts had led me to believe was his calling. He looked sad and tired. Probably the way I look most of the time. I saw in him what I saw in me. Struggle.

It was weird.

And then later that night, I found Draco Malfoy one step away from committing suicide.

Everything hit me then. I realized it. He hated his life. He wanted to get away from Slytherin, Death Eaters, stereotypes... everything that held him in the darkness. Bwaaaaaa.

Our conversation proved me more right than I could have ever imagined.

He is a very handsome man when he's not looking down his nose at you. Eyes like mercury. Body of Apollo. He is Apollo.

Yes, I'm still high.

He was acting silly. He was a little drunk, but had this natural silliness. It would have been cute had he not been trying to kill himself. Hell, it was _still_ cute.

So there's that.

I gave him this speech about open mindedness and relativity of good and evil before realizing that everything I was saying was completely true. If Malfoy wanted to rid himself of Voldemort, he must not be all bad. Clearly he wasn't--

"Ginny."

Having been interrupted, the ginger looked up, stealthily hiding the diary under the blankets. Harry Potter loomed over her from behind, a strange expression on his face.

She was curled up in a chair by the fire in the Common Room, blanket over her knees as she warmed her toes by the fire. Foolishly she assumed that just because it was late, she wouldn't run into Harry.

"That is, indeed, my name." She joked, attempting a small smile.

He shook his hair into his face to hide his eyes as he made his way to one of the other chairs directly across from her. "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we doing that now?" Ginny muttered, laughing after she said it. _Malfoy and I just played some serious Questions. I'm not going to lose to Harry._

The fire was dying, it's remaining flickers of light casting both their faces into a beautiful half-silhouette. Ginny's hair glowed like a fiery mane as she stared into the flaming embers.

"I suppose." Harry muttered, shrugging.

_I win. Too bad Harry. You have officially lost this conversation._

His piercing eyes flicked from the fire to her, right as she wanted to squeeze a glimpse at him. At the contact, both sets of eyes jumped back to the fire. He took a breath before speaking, "How can we fix this?"

Ginny sighed. "I don't know."

"Do you even want to try?"

"Do you?" Ginny asked, sharper than she had intended. Her bright eyes looked up, but his orbs remained fixed downward.

"Yes," he whispered, finally bringing himself to look at her. "But everything you said was true. Every bit of it."

Ginny said nothing, instead choosing to tighten the blankets around herself. Though never one to shy from confrontation, this was awkward.

"You deserve more than... than what I can give you. Especially right now. But I..."

"Harry..." Ginny muttered, but he waved her silent and continued.

"You mean a lot to me." He finalized, finally being his eyes to meet hers. She clenched the diary tight in her hands at his gaze.

"I know that." Ginny finally put in. "We've known each other forever. I grew up as your sister, Harry. The love between us is bloody strong..."

She paused, gripping the leather binding of the notebook still tighter. "But I don't think... we can have any happy ending. Now. Maybe ever. There's too much strain. And Harry... I'm not going to wait for you to save the world."

"Ginny, it's not about that!" Harry said, loudly enough for his voice to echo slightly.

She scoffed, straightening her posture. "Oh don't _you_ tell me that."

"Gin, I need you. I need you so I can actually do this!" He said, standing.

Remaining in her seat, she nonetheless didn't back down. "No, you need someone who will take all your shit. How could you ever assume that I would just sit back, a trophy of Harry Potter? No. I'm not that girl. I'm no damsel. That's all you've ever treated me as, and, quite frankly, that's all you have time for!"

Her argument was barely making sense. She was literally saying _everything_ now, with no connection between the points.

"For you to return from whatever you have to do, bloody angry, taking it out on me? That's what you need me for?" She spat, narrowing her eyes. "Well, I don't want that. I'm not going to take that. And you have plenty of support without me. I'm not going to sit back, another minion of Harry Potter's Golden Army, never to be recognized, only to be behind your banner. No. I am my own person. I can fight too. And I will."

"Fight with me then!" Harry yelled, taking a step closer.

"No." Ginny said simply. "Your whole existence is solidarity, Harry! You are singled out! The Chosen One. One. There's no way to fight with you, only behind you. Your back up. This is bloody selfish, but I don't want to be another one of your collection. You are not my leader."

She looked so menacing all huddled in her blanket that Harry froze.

"I never want to fight under a leader who cannot open his eyes to the goodness around him, even if it's hard to see. To consider a situation relative to both parties." Ginny's demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. It dropped to a more cold, exact tone. She gripped the book again, thinking about Malfoy.

"Wha--?"

She stood suddenly, her hair magically magnified like before. "We be on the same side, but I will not fight behind you."

"What are you saying?" Harry growled.

"Open your eyes Harry!" She finally got to shouting. "You see the world in black and white! Don't you see how narrow-minded that makes you and all your efforts?"

Malfoy's mercurial eyes shot through her mind.

"Ginny, what is happening to you?" He asked, incredulously. "There is only black and white in this battle! Voldemort is evil. We fight for good! I don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Have you ever thought of the people forced to do Voldemort's bidding? Have you thought about the people who do not follow his banner, but are stuck behind it?" She bit, standing her ground despite his being a good foot taller than her. "The Order stands for protection, not destruction. All you've been geared around is just destroying everything that's dark, that stands between you and Voldemort."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ginny. You don't know--"

"There you go again! You just assume that I don't understand anything at all!"

People were beginning to wake up now. Ginny heard stirrings from above.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his already unruly hair. "What happened to you, Ginny? It seems like I don't even know you anymore."

"BECAUSE YOU NEVER DID." she spat, arms by her sides defiantly. "You only know me as Ron's sister. I don't think I've ever been who you want me to be. We're different, Harry. You wish to destroy. I wish to save."

"What can you do?" Harry asked, throwing his hands in the air.

"Just as fucking much as you can. Humans are not born greater than others." She snarled, and Harry twitched. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

She turned and was on the first step before Harry pulled himself out of a sort of reverie. "You can't just end this on your own bloody terms!"

"I just did."

* * *

There was something apparent at breakfast as Draco strolled in late. A blazing red mane present at the Ravenclaw table. There were no red heads in Ravenclaw.

Princess Weasley was there. Not at Gryffindor.

_Interesting_.

"Draco." Blaise called from his table, waving a goblet.

He realized he had been standing in the doorway for longer than was necessary, and hastened to a spot between Goyle and Blaise.

"Weasley isn't at the Gryffindor table." Blaise commented, smiling.

_Gossip gossip gossip..._

"Probably had a tiff with Potter." Draco muttered, grabbing toast. "Good news for you, Blaise, there's more meat for you to defile."

Laughing, Blaise toasted that with his cup before draining it of orange juice. "Truer words never spoken."

He was completely prepared to pretend last night didn't happen. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it didn't happen. Nope.

Denial is oh so healthy.

Draco was mercilessly tired. He hadn't slept much last night, and instead was thinking.

Death was still the only answer.

But...

No wait, last night didn't happen, so he didn't actually treasure his life, la la laaaa.

_Fuck._ He cursed his thoughts, dispelling them for a time. Despite how hard he tried to deny it, last night's adventure with Weasley had indeed happened. He wished desperately for another way. Draco would fight to find it. He would live through this.

But he owed the Weasley girl nothing. She was just a pretty adrenaline junkie with very precise broom control and a knack for speaking in riddles. With nice smelling hair. The bloody witch.

They had no connection, no bond. Nothing.

"Draco, babe, you keep staring at the Little Weasley."

He shook his head, changing his focus from Ginny to Blaise. "No I don't."

"Can't hate on you for that, though, she's a fox." Blaise muttered, stretching his long arms gracefully. He just completely disregarded Draco's sentence, like he always did when he was right. Hmph.

"Blaise. Let's skip today." Draco said suddenly, standing up after sitting for barely a minute. All the female eyes in a radius of 20 feet of him flicked to him, then back to what they were doing. Yeah, he had that effect on people. Mainly girls, but the occasional male.

Draco worked the I'm-dangerous-but-oh-so-appealing look better than anyone at the school. Like a vampire. Everything about him drew you in, but you needed to be cautious because he'd turn you into a Death Eater with one bite on the neck. That was the general consensus/rumor.

On the other hand, Blaise Zabini was unapproachable as well. His beauty more fit for a girl, with perfect, dark ebony skin and sharply defined features, his exotic appearance and graceful height drew cautious eyes. But despite his friendliness with Draco, he was indifferent to the rest of the world. Of course his presence at Draco's side made them both untouchable.

Untouchable, but damn good eye candy.

"And do..." Blaise ventured, though nevertheless standing with his friend. "What exactly?"

"I'm down for a sun nap." The Slytherin King said, smirking.

Blaise laughed, and ignoring the Slytherins hoping for an invite and began to leave the hall. "We haven't done that in a while. Can your vampire skin handle it?"

Scoffing, Draco elbowed his friend in the side. "We used to do this a lot, and it was bloody nice. I can't remember why we stopped..."

"Because you went all dark on me, mate." Blaise said unflinchingly. He looked around, seeing no one paying attention to them, and suddenly draped his long arm around Draco's shoulders and pulling him roughly closer. "Seems like someone's ready to live again."

Instead of throwing him off like he normally did, Draco shrugged. "I had life thrown at me last night, so..."

_WHY DID I SAY THAT? _He screamed at himself, though not appearing riled. He hoped Blaise would just let it slip by... _Who am I kidding, Blaise is the more intuitive person I know. _

"Did Katie Bell throw herself at you like I predicted?"

Despite himself, Draco laughed. They had just passed through the doors leading outside, and Blaise dropped his from his shoulders. "You must be joking."

"A little. But you must have had some fun last night then if you're this energetic again. Look, there's blood in your cheeks! Since when does that happen?"

Draco was stupidly silent, because if he had spoken about a different topic, he might have been able to control the conversation. Nope.

"Does it have to do with the Little Weasley? Shagging Potter's enemy must be a wonderful way to get over him..." Blaise said lightly, glancing at his friend to judge a reaction.

And reaction there was. Draco's heart stopped for a moment and he hesitated in his step, causing him to stumble awkwardly.

"Wow. That was a wild wild guess, mate. Your reaction just then was adorable, though." Blaise laughed, ruffling his friend's hair.

Instead of fixing it, like normal, Draco just let his bands cover his eyes, partly in embarrassment. _He's my best friend that I neglected. I should tell him. I owe him that._

"No. It wasn't that. I... well... I went to the astronomy tower last night after drinking." Draco started. He paused when they found their favorite spot on the grounds, a small hill that was in between Care of Magical Creatures and the lake, with a good view of both.

Blaise's joking face was immediately replaced by a calm seriousness.

"And almost ended it. All." Draco whispered, looking anywhere but at Blaise. They were seated at the top of the hill now, and Blaise took off his black robes, Draco following suit.

He nodded, smiling sadly. "I thought you'd try that soon, actually."

Draco was surprised by this. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Malfoy, you are the only person who cannot see yourself properly. Which is strange because you look in the mirror so often, but still." Good 'ol Blaise, counteracting a dark topic with light humor. It made it easier for Draco. He was glad that Blaise was such a bright person, not at all like Pansy or Crabbe and Goyle. He'd never have been able to tell them this. Probably because of his abhorrence of them, or something.

"Well... then there's that." Draco muttered, nodding to Blaise, who repeated the action. "I had my eyes closed, and then Weasley spoke. She was going for a night fly and then saw me."

"That's lucky."

"She was high, and I was drunk, and so we weren't mean to each other. She didn't even talk me out of it, she just talked to me about it. I don't know. She's a lot different than Potter and them. A lot different. A complete black sheep." He smiled at his use of the muggle reference. Not gonna lie, he had been getting into some muggle things now and again.

Blaise nodded, understanding. Draco quickly sent a prayer to every god ever thanking them for having him for a friend. An actual friend. A real friend that he could always come back to.

"Then she told me to get on her broom, which I did. And Merlin's Beard her hair smells nice. Like pine. Then out of the blue she went into a dive. Not a safe one. A potentially murderous one. But she pulled out of it at the last moment and we rolled and tumbled on the grass."

"Sounds..." Blaise muttered, smiling, "... fun."

"In a heap of giggles, she told me that that would be what jumping would have been like, only I wouldn't have lived at the end. And that I was glad to be alive, which I was."

"So... to sum up..." Blaise started, leaning back so he was lying on the grass. "The Little Weasley kicked a will to live back into your cold soul. And now you want to take a sun nap. Can I thank her for getting me my best mate back, or should you?"

Draco looked at Blaise, an indiscernible expression on the princely face. He then sighed with a tiny smile.

"It doesn't seem real. This... what happened was so bloody crazy. Something that would happen in like..." Draco said, leaning back on his hands and staring at the clear sky.

"A fan fiction." Blaise said shortly.

"Yeah."

"Have you ever considered..." Blaise started, quietly, though with a strong force behind it. "That we're in a fan fiction?"

"No, actually, I haven't. What on earth are you on about?" Draco laughed.

Blaise remained lying on his back, but he raised his hand to the sky, holding a cloud. "What if we're not real? Maybe we're someone's creative figments, and they're toying with an alternate reality."

The deep lullaby tone of Blaise's voice captured Draco's thoughts completely.

"Then, I suppose, we would have alter-egos in another dimension. Or perhaps we, as characters in someone's world, are trapped within the bounds of what they decide for us. We can only do what the original 'author' of our lives writes. And once our goal in their 'book of life', so to say, is completed, are we to disappear? Maybe this alternate universe is a chance to live and be in a different life. Like fan fiction."

He laughed and continued. "Unless, of course, this is the original book, and not a fan fiction at all. But how are we to know? Our fate is at the hands of those with enough creativity to harness it. Our identities may be skewed, but who are we to say if what we know is who we are at all. We live the life as our author chooses."

Draco sighed. His friend was vastly intelligent. These spouts of philosophy were taxing, and yet... he couldn't take his mind off the point Blaise made. "That implies that we are never to have control over our lives... no identity. Our actions, stories, even our thoughts are controlled by another 'writer', of this different universe or the original. We're just characters in someone's plot."

"Maybe in another book we're absolute arses. Maybe we're the bad guys." Blaise ventured, laughing.

"In case you haven't noticed, dear, we're arses here too."

"Well the universe is viewed entirely through one's perspective, and that perspective only. So we can't be the bad guys. Our situation is relative only to ourselves. We see others as bad, and they perhaps feel the same about this. Only by having omniscient power and control over multiple subjects can good and evil be truly... conceptualized."

"You sound like Weasley..." Draco muttered, lying back finally. There was a cloud that looked like a star. "She basically said that perspective shit herself last night."

"Smart girl."

Clearly, this is what young men talk about. Not sex or sports. Philosophy.

"Speaking in terms of this 'fan fiction' theory..." Draco continued, getting to the topic that he had pondered as Blaise had been talking. "Then my contact with Weasley could mean we're 'destined' to be connected. That's a shame. I don't get to control my thoughts and feelings on the matter. In this world, I have been fated to owe my life to Princess Weasley."

"Who says that's a bad thing?" Blaise chuckled, turning his head to he could look at his friend. "She's a babe."

"I don't like thinking that I have no control over my life." Draco said stubbornly.

"You are thinking that the 'fate' means 'lack of self control'. What if you put a positive spin on it? That fate means things happening for a reason."

"And in the fan fiction," Draco said, sighing before he continued. "the reason is for the entertainment of readers. The readers of our lives. Everything we do in this story is for them. As if that was true, you dolt."

"I wouldn't think of it if I were you. You'd just get depressed." Blaise said simply, rolling over so he was on his stomach. "But whatever happens, the readers are waiting on your next move. And it's your move to make. Life is yours. Neither your father nor some omniscient fan girl writer can take that from you. They don't own you. You live as yourself."

"I don't believe in fate. No one writes my story but me." Draco finalized, feeling good about the end of this, for some reason. There was no doubt that he did control his own life. Between Weasley and Blaise, his future seemed bright for the first time in a while. The two friends lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"You are ridiculous, do you know that?" muttered Draco.

"I'm high as a bloody broomstick too."

Quickly, Draco sat up to better look at Blaise. "You too! This muggle marijuana is just--"

"Awesome. Makes you think." He said, laughing. "You should try it."

"Don't pass your druggie habits onto me, Zabini." Draco growled, giving his friend a jab to the side. This caused Blaise to sit up casually, resting his wrists on his knees.

"I'm not the only one. Speaking of other drug participants, the fan fiction writer of this dimension strikes again. What are the chances that Ginevra Weasley is coming to her Care of Magical Creatures class..."

"Shut up about that fan fiction nonsense... and wait what?" Draco whipped his head to see the fiery witch herself, walking with her friend Something Meadows. Started with an M... Melanie. Melanie Meadows.

_The Dark Lord killed her mother..._ Draco realized. He had been given history lessons on the first war between the Order of the Phoenix and the Dark Lord. Voldemort had killed her personally. Dorcas Meadows.

He felt a surge of guilt, despite having nothing to do with it. But he was taken out of the pool of bad feeling by watching the Little Weasley suddenly run up to Hagrid as he faced his hut and jump on his back. How she managed to jump so high completely stymied him.

Laughter ensued. Fun was had by all. Soon their class started. It was fire crabs today. The creatures wandered about in their large, makeshift wooden paddock, occasionally spurting fire and being propelled in the opposite direction. Meadows and Weasley took a spot at the very back of the class, clearly to talk and not pay attention.

But Meadows was called upon by Hagrid to be his assistant demonstrator. Weasley pushed her forward, laughing, swinging her thick mane of hair around.

He noticed it wasn't as long as he thought. It was very thick and wavy, but it only ended up reaching her shoulder blades. The sun reflected off the deep red with, not a gold color, but an orangey red. He could hardly keep his eyes off it.

Draco didn't register Blaise's comment, _"You're staring again". _

All his thoughts, his life, his soul was owed to the owner of that beautiful hair. There was no way thank her that he could think of. Despite continuing to live.

After these thoughts had driven themselves into the ground, Draco realized that Ginny had been staring at him for as long as he had been at her.  


* * *

To Emily.


	3. Royal Summons

_Draco didn't register Blaise's comment, "You're staring again". _

_All his thoughts, his life, his soul was owed to the owner of that beautiful hair. There was no way thank her that he could think of. Despite continuing to live._

_After these thoughts had driven themselves into the ground, Draco realized that Ginny had been staring at him for as long as he had been at her._

* * *

She had known Draco was there since they had exited the castle. Melanie was talking about some bad grade she had gotten, but Ginny just half-listened, her eyes wandering to Hagrid's hut. She saw her half-giant friend, a paddock with random bursts of fire, and some of the students already there.

Ginny's eyes wandered to the lake, but got caught on brilliantly blond hair, visible even from space.

_There's no way that's not Malfoy._ She thought, smirking in spite of herself. He was with a friend with the darkest of dark skin, which had to have been Blaise Zabini. They were lying too close to Hagrid's hut to avoid acknowledging each other. _Damn. This'll be awkward._

When they were close enough, Melanie finally noticed the boys. "Ooh, get a load of the eye candy. You're right, I shouldn't have skipped this class. Zabini is just... and Malfoy? The baddest of the bad boys."

"I suppose they are..." Ginny mumbled, blushing a little.

Melanie took no notice of this. "Hey, what would be a better way to get over Harry than to hit up one of them?"

"Why one when you could get both?" Ginny joked, batting her eyelashes. All of the sudden she was gripped by a sudden impulse to jump on Hagrid's back. Mainly because she hadn't seen Hagrid in a while, but an unexplainable part of her wanted to show off how cool and unaffected she was by Malfoy's presence.

Not. The very sight of him made her nervous.

After class began, Melanie was chosen to be Hagrid's assistant for a spell. This left Ginny alone. Half of her was scared, but the other half realized this was a wonderful opportunity. Opportunity for what, she didn't really know. She was just going with her gut on this one.

She appeared to be watching the lesson diligently, but all her thoughts were bent on the man on the grass not 30 feet away. _Is he looking at me? I wonder if he is. He probably isn't... but what if he is? I saved his life so he can't just not acknowledge me... but then again we did say we we're going to pretend it didn't happen._

Ginny let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. _What if I look and he's not looking? Wait, then I'll be the one looking. What if I look and he IS looking? Oh, bloody fucking hell..._

Whatever. It was game time. She glanced in his direction and saw him staring straight at her. All thoughts of looking away blew out of her mind as she took in his attempt to appear relaxed. She then realized that he was just as tense about it as she was.

Ginny and Malfoy were stuck, trapped in a void where if they would look away, they might fall off the planet. It was so strange, and the both of them felt it.

_Oh my... he's..._ Ginny could barely even see anything else. They were connected now. She could practically see the a line between them. Unbreakable, no matter how hard they tried.

She didn't like it. Never before had she felt so unbelievably responsible for another person. He was alive because of her. He was living now because of her. He was living for her.

Weasleys and Malfoys weren't supposed to be connected under any circumstance, least of all the respective princess and prince. But...

His hair shone with a brilliant silver sheen. It was almost white in the blazing sun. His crisp white shirt and pale skin only made him stand out more. Draco Malfoy was at least twice as attractive as Harry. Well, maybe not, but quite frankly Malfoy was a glowing demigod of masculine beauty. He was a beacon of light. Ironic that he was so dark on the inside.

Without realizing what she was doing and, she raised her hand tentatively and gave him a cute little wave.

* * *

"She waved. She waved at you. She waved at you!" Blaise whispered frantically. Draco's heart stopped.

"What do I do?" He spat back, not moving.

Blaise sighed in exasperation. "Wave back."

"I can't-"

"_Do it._"

Draco raised his hand awkwardly and waved back.

As he did that, Ginny laughed audibly, causing him to smile. The tension broken, she stuck out her tongue at him.

"What a cutie." Blaise whispered, nudging him slightly. "If you don't tap that, I will."

Ginny turned back to the lesson when Melanie came back to her side. Draco was able to use this to break his gaze from her pretty frame and whip towards Blaise. "Don't you fucking dare." He growled.

Blaise laughed, leaning back on his hands, Draco changing so he was sitting cross-legged. "Ooook Mr. Protector..."

"Shut your mouth. You don't know what you're talking about." Draco stubbornly muttered, turning away.

Blaise laughed, shaking his head. "You're such a twat."

"Leave her alone. She just got out of a relationship..."

"That's when we strike, Drakie." Blaise muttered, shaking his head. "But I understand. You owe her. Got to treat her differently, I suppose."

Draco stood up before running a hand through his messy hair and sighing. "No... nevermind. She doesn't mean... She's just whatever. Do what you want."

"You seem to be fighting with yourself." Blaise commented.

"Come off it." Draco remained standing and stretched his long limbs. "I might just sunburn, you know."

"We've not been out here for an hour yet."

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've been in the sun for a while..."

Blaise laughed. "And heaven forbid you ruin your complexion lest Ginevra Weasley see you with a sunburn."

Ignored.

"I think you should thank her." Blaise said simply, getting back to the abandoned topic. "With your body, of course."

Draco scoffed, sitting down again. His eyes strayed to Ginny's cute little butt.

"There's really no harm. You want her. And what a smack to Potter to tap his ex."

_Might be right... But..._ "But..."

Blaise was getting a little fed up, but it hardly showed. "Stake your claim now. Not many would go against you, now would they?"

They wouldn't. Incurring and surviving the true wrath of the Slytherin King was monstrous.

Draco smirked, watching Ginny flip her hair nonchalantly. "Consider that claim staked."

* * *

"You must have done something right, Ginny, because Malfoy cannot stop looking at you." Melanie whispered, stealing another glance through her dark curtain of hair. "Yep, there he goes again."

"Good."

"Good? What is this? You we're going for this with your little wave? I thought you were going to ignore last nights... er... events." Melanie hissed.

Laughing, Ginny shrugged. "Yeah. But... _it's Malfoy._ He's just... I mean if he's looking at me... Of course it's good if he looks at you... wait, how is he looking? Like, angry, or... or sultry?"

Melanie just laughed. "I'd say a combination. Zabini is laughing. Holy Merlin is _he_ a piece of work."

"His mother is a model or something." Ginny put in, shrugging. "I'd say they're tied. From far away, at least."

"Close up... Who wins?" Melanie asked lightly, putting her finger to her lip in mock thought.

"Malfoy." "Zabini." Ginny and Melanie said respectively in unison. They then turned to each other and laughed.

They were shushed by some goodie Ravenclaw, who received two cold glares of gossipy death.

Suddenly stuck by lightning realization, Ginny gasped, stiffening her body with the shock of the comprehension. "What if I actually _do_-"

"Hit that?" Mel put in, smirking. "Harry might just... keel over dead. You would have officially destroyed mankind's only hope against evil."

"Oh, please." Ginny snorted. "I'll take his place as hero of the world then. Officially bridging the gap between hated houses. He's never done that."

"You seem hell bent on beating him."

Ginny didn't respond to that. Mel was absolutely right. She didn't have the slightest idea why, but something in her wanted to show Harry what he lost in the most painful, mocking way ever. It's just whatever. Doesn't need to make sense.

"Be careful." Mel whispered, shaking her head. "Malfoy is godlike, but you two have a history of pain and bad feelings. Not to mention you saving his life and flipping his world upside-down or whatever."

Ginny scoffed, but Mel continued. "Just... be careful with this one. There is no safety when it comes to him."

"For Merlin's sake, I wouldn't even know how to go about seducing him." Ginny muttered, putting her palms over her eyes. She seemed to catch herself from this dream she was envisioning. "I'm just a stupid girl."

That's Ginny Weasley for you. Either filled with a fiery confidence and dying will, or a small, unsure girlishness. No real middle ground. Either 0 or 100 percent. It's the classic case of a the youngest and only girl: grown up competing with older boys makes her strong but unsure of things other than the competition. Basically things came easy to Ginny if only it could be made into a competition.

"Honey, you seduce people without even _looking_ at them."

"Yeah..." She muttered, glancing over her shoulder to catch another glimpse of the shining Slytherin King, only to find that he and Zabini were gone. Strangely, her heart fell a little. She tried to shake off the feeling by gazing towards the sun and gauging the time.

Mel looked over her shoulder as well. "Bullocks... they've gone."

Class ended for them half an hour later when Mel and Ginny cut out early. 6th year classes didn't really matter. It was mainly to learn things they would review next year, anyway. They wandered around the castle aimlessly, talking about outlandish methods of getting Malfoy and Zabini to fall for them. The most outrageous involved putting kittens in mortal danger which neither of them were at peace with.

When time finally came for lunch, they were among the first ones there. They took places at the end of the table, furthest away from the door, by habit. It was various fixings for sandwiches and accompanying soups today.

Mel and Ginny talked happily about the upcoming ball, the latter still with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Malfoy would never, ever even approach her again. He had made that clear last night. But if he _was _looking at her... and he did wave, didn't he?

But back to that event I mentioned. Oh yeah, the ball. THE BALL. The first ball in 3 years. The thought process was, 'Because it's so evil outside... we should raise morale by throwing a pretty dance.' Flawless logic right there.

Sarcasm aside, people were managing to be a little excited for the prospect. Alright, that was a huge understatement. You'd have thought the girls of Hogwarts had never dressed up before, they were so electrified. They guys were a little more... reserved with their thrill, but still, boys were eyeing girls more often than usual, if that were possible.

It would be a spring dance. That was all they knew. It was the night before their Easter holidays.

"Erm... Miss Weasley?"

A tiny kid, who looked to be 2nd year tops, was suddenly standing behind her. She turned quickly, having not even made note of his presence, despite his being not a few feet from her. He looked a little frightened out of his mind.

"Yes?" Ginny asked, smiling warmly at him. Melanie looked over with a bored face.

"Note for you, Miss." He extended a folded up piece of paper, looking eager to hand it off.

Ginny took it slowly. "From who, exactly?"

"It's in the letter." Without another word he turned his back and walked quickly out of the hall.

She was absolutely perplexed. "Who was that, Mel?"

Melanie, being vastly nosy and a prefect, generally knew who was who around the school. "Er... Oh, that's a 2nd year Hufflepuff, Jones. Russel Jones. He have any connection to you?"

"Considering I didn't know who he _was_, no." Ginny mumbled, turning around to face her sandwich once more. She placed the note besides her goblet and continued eating as if it was nothing.

Yeah, trying to be all nonchalant... she was itching to rip it open and read it. You see, with the ball approaching in little more than a month, any abnormality could be approached as if it were a ploy to ask someone. _Maybe someone is asking me..._ She thought before gasping.

"Bloody hell!"

"What?" Melanie asked, blearily, having choked on her water when Ginny had exlaimed.

"This means I might get asked to the ball!" Ginny whispered, casting a quick glance down at Harry for a moment. She wouldn't be automatically going with him anymore.

The quickness of Ginny's jumping tracks left Melanie confused, but she soon saw the light. "Because you left Harry? You think that note is someone asking you?"

"Well..." _Maybe._

"Open it then."

Oh, how she wanted to. Then why shouldn't she just do it? In not even a second later, the note was in her hands, unfolded.

_You saved my corporeal life. How about I save your sex life?_

_D.M._

No. No. No way.

"Hey, Malfoy just got here."

In retrospect it was cute. Ginny squeaked and jumped, and to save herself from falling off the stool grabbed the table edge and empty plate. Said dish flipped upward before coming back down in a loud, ringing crash.

Thankfully, due to the noise of the hall, now filled to capacity, no one except the immediate people around them heard it.

"Bloody hell, Gin, what are you doing?" Melanie hissed, not being one to like being the center of attention, even if only for a short spell.

The redhead said nothing. She just laid her head on the table and handed Melanie the note.

Ginny didn't have to see to understand her friend's reaction.

"Ginny! GINNY! Fucking shit, Ginny!" Mel whisper-yelled, turning halfway around in her chair to catch a glimpse of Malfoy, who had taken a seat.

Picking her head up, Ginny snatched the note back and read it again.

"What a pansy." Ginny said suddenly, smirking, though her blush was very clear. "Through a note? That's a little lame, don't you think?"

She was definitely pretending to be all cool about this.

"Uh..." Mel pretended to think about this before socking Ginny in the shoulder playfully. "No, because it's _DRACO MALFOY. _He's like the ultimate. For a Gryffindor? Silly Ginny. Imagine how amazing he would be!"

"No. I value my body a lot more than just a _royal summons_." Ginny muttered, still blushing and _still _smiling.

"Your face betrays you, lovie."

Oh god yes she completely wanted this. She hadn't had a good hook-up since Dean. And that was a while ago. But what she said was true. She was always under the belief that notes were lame, and despite the unbelievable circumstances... this was no different.

The roaring fire that was Ginny's volcanic will power began to build up. Old, competitive habits die hard.

"It's too easy." Ginny whispered, fingering the edges of the note.

His handwriting was spiky, but elegant in a boyish way. Made so much sense given his personality.

"What do you mean, 'easy'?" Melanie groaned, shaking her head.

Ginny continued to stare at the handwriting, ignoring her friend. "A chase... We'll make it a game."

_Be careful Weasley. You're treading dangerous waters. _Her inner self warned. _Don't forget your sense of connection. You know more about him than most. A strictly physical relationship Will. Not. Work. _

She shook her head to clear it of the thoughts. No, this would be good for her. What better way to show off for Harry than to make Draco Malfoy infatuated? And if it turned into more... It wouldn't. It won't.

"You are barking mad." Mel sighed. "This is Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, and if he is who I think he is... he'll relish the challenge."

* * *

The note had been sent off. Now all he had to do was wait for her response which would undoubtedly be a yes and then all will be well and dandy. Once he shagged her, she'd be out of his head. Right? Right.

But there was something even _he_ could not ignore. Twist words all you like, but she saved his life and showed him how much he wanted to live. She didn't give him a reason or even an answer to his plight... but she just... _shot a bullet of light and hope through this shell of a body and into my barely beating heart. _

Dramatic, our young Master Malfoy.

That was when Draco felt a strange tickling on his thigh. A hand was creeping, tip toeing up his leg...

"Pansy." Draco growled, grabbing the girl's wrist with a seeker's reflexes.

Pansy had her eyes on her meal the entire time, so as not to make a scene. She daintily lifted her goblet to her mouth, cleverly hiding her next words.

"What's wrong?" She bit her lip seductively before continuing. "This used to be your... _favorite_ game."

As she said this, Pansy stretched her long fingers and managed to brush her middle finger against his belt buckle.

Pansy Parkinson, contrary to popular belief, was very very clever. She was also the stereotypical Slytherin girl. Beautiful, haughty, skinny, with long dark hair and even darker eyes. She had changed her hairstyle this year by losing her bangs, and styling the silky, longer locks as if she had jumped into water, slicked back by nothing but a stubborn brush. The female equivalent of greasing your hair and combing it back. Only without the grease. It looked very dignified, as if she was a model.

She had also used magic to change the pig-like shape of her nose, but not too much as to seem a huge difference.

Needless to say, she knew how to use her inherent charms to get what she wanted from everybody, both male and female. She could be a protector or a destroyer, depending on her mood.

And her mood now was... well... obvious.

Draco moved her hand back to the stool tenderly, though hiding a small amount of brutality. "I don't want-"

"I get it, I get it." Pansy drawled, rolling her eyes and casting him a bored look. "Something's off about you lately."

Nobody had noticed what went on between them. That was one of Pansy's strengths. She could either make a scene at the drop of a hat, or cause some sort of havoc without any notice. Sneaky little... well, snake.

"Hardly." he muttered, shaking his head. Without realizing it, his eyes drifted to a head of red hair across the hall from where he sat. His yummy note should have reached her by now...

"No. There really is something. You haven't been talking to us, besides Blaise not 30 minutes ago."

"Where is he?" Draco asked, trying to change the subject.

"Probably smoking. But Draco... I know I seem..." She paused, trying to find the right words. When none came, she just shrugged. "Annoying I suppose sometimes, but..."

Draco turned to look at her for the first time since lunch started. She paused and attempted a weak smile.

"You know I'd do anything for you." She finished, a rare sincerity on her face.

Draco propped his chin on his hand and looked at her, silver eyes meeting dark brown. His face softened for the first time in a while. "I know."

The tender moment ended abruptly as Blaise plopped down across from them.

"I am _hungry_."

Pansy erased all traces of kindness from her face in favor of her normal haughtiness faster than blinking. "'Ello there, Munchies."

"You know it." Blaise muttered, loading a mountain of chips onto his plate.

Draco chuckled, then he felt another tickling on his thigh. "Seriously, Pansy?" He asked loudly, but then noticed that Pansy was using both hands to daintily eat her sandwich.

She looked perplexed, and both their eyes looked down in unison to see something they did not expect. It was a origami dragon that was charmed so it moved. The little dragon was now hopping on his leg, begging his attention.

At once his heart started pounding painfully.

"What's this?" Pansy asked, narrowing her eyes.

_A response._

Ignoring her, Draco tapped the dragon with his wand with a small mutter of, _"Finite."_

The movements ceased, causing the dragon to stop moving. With another short wave of his wand again, it unfolded upside-down, the creases becoming smoothed out.

"How'd you do that?" Pansy asked interestedly. So maybe she wasn't the best witch ever, but even she recognized that he just did something they never learned.

"Studied." Draco muttered. Shooting another glance across the tables, he saw Ginny and her friend get up and begin to walk out. She wore a kind smile as she waved at a friend, but... was that a small blush on her cheeks?

At least she managed to make it out without looking at him. That made one of them.

Emboldened, Draco took the square of paper and flipped it over, keeping it hidden from Pansy.

_Who says I need it, eh?_

_G.W._

He just stared at the messy cursive with no discernible expression. Blaise looked at him, a huge cheshire grin spreading over his handsome face. "And?"

Draco bit the inside of his cheek and nodded in acknowledgment before standing with a smirk and tossing the note to Blaise. "Little kitten wants to be chased."

"Wh-what was that about?" Pansy asked, stretching across the table to get a hand on the note and being promptly denied by Blaise.

Draco just smiled and began to walk away, messing up Pansy's hair as he went.

"Hey! Draco! Don't you _touch_ my hair again you slime!"

"Wait." Blaise called, reading the note. Draco paused, his back facing his friends.

"What are you going to do?" Blaise asked, tilting his head in question.

He looked over his shoulder. "Blaisey... It's me."

With a smirk and a strange glow, he continued to walk down the isle, black robes sweeping behind him.

* * *

Dear Mr. Diary,

I'm a virgin. Yeah.

And... I may have incurred the sexual warpath of one _Draco Malfoy_.

Oops.

But hey, it could be fun, right? I turned this strangeness between us into a game that has no apparent goal in mind. Cat and mouse. Not really. More like capture the flag. You want to get their flag, but also want them to come to you so you can... I don't know. Never mind. But it seems that...

Well, this all relies on him getting in on the game as well.

MEANWHILE. The ball draws near. I'm not going with Harry so... I need to go with someone. Logic.

Alright boys... come get me!

…

I wish it worked like that. I absolutely need a trophy date. Like Malfoy.

No, shit. That won't work for a few reasons.

Namely one.

He hates me.

But oh wait, what was that I just received today? OH YEAH. A note. I'm going to put the note here in-between the pages so I can relive it all the bloody time.

Draco Malfoy wants to shag me.

How should I feel about that? Flattered, yes. Scared, yes. Curious, yes. Cautious, yes. No. Yes. I'm going crazy, diary. He is just...

There's something between us. I'm responsible for keeping him alive, perhaps against his will.

I just don't understand what I'm doing.

I know I appear to be completely sure of myself and what I do all the time. Like with Harry.

But I'm not. I'm not sure I even should have ended it with him. But our loud conversation last night left little room for reconciliation.

Nothing really makes sense to me right now except for one thing.

Draco Malfoy is fighting against everything I've ever known him to be. And I love it. I want it. I want him to get out of it all.

This'll sounds weird, even on paper. This goes against everything I've been brought up to be.

But I'd rather be with Draco Malfoy than Harry Potter.

Augh! No! Not in a dating sense.

Never mind.

If he wants to get out of the inner depths of Voldemort's hell, then I want to help him.

I also want to shag him. This coming from the virgin.

Remember last entry when I referred to him as Apollo?

Yeah. Still true.

I just hope the bait laid in my response note worked.

Bugger all, this is bad. He moved his pawn, and I did mine. Now it's his move.

I've always been batshit terrible at chess.

Uh oh.

Wish me luck!

* * *

Erm... this one is dedicated to all the closet nerds who read fan fiction but don't appear to. There is safety in numbers. I love you all.


	4. Skinny Tie

Ok, I should explain. College. There done. That's why I havent updated for an age.

I should also explain something else. Why Pansy Parkinson was originally a shitty character in the first chapter. It's because when she was explained Draco hated everyone. Since it was through his POV it would make sense that he would describe her the way he/the narrator did. SO TAKE THAT. Pansy is clever, and plays an important role in Draco's newly found sanity. She's not in love with Draco, but indeed loves him enough to jump through hoops to help him. She's one of my favorite characters in the story right now. So she's actually cool. There.

Love you all, please review because it just just preforms alchemy on my heart, turns it into gold, whereby I have a heart of gold. And then i feel like updating. And you like that.

Here we go DraGin, here we go!

* * *

Scenes from Last:

_I just hope the bait laid in my response note worked._

_Bugger all, this is bad. He moved his pawn, and I did mine. Now it's his move._

_I've always been batshit terrible at chess._

_Uh oh._

_Wish me luck!

* * *

_

Beloved Diary,

I have lost.

My cute idea of getting Draco Malfoy, I repeat, _DRACO MALFOY_, to chase me has blown up in my face in the most passive, terrible way. No, there were no explosions or yelling or fighting about it between anyone. It was just a quiet failure.

He never responded to my note.

This, the 3rd week after sending the note, is when I am finally able to admit my complete and utter failure of seduction.

What's more, according to Mel, information-gatherer extraordinaire, he has had flings with Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin, Nella Tracy, Morrigan Clemens and Susan Raderstrong of Ravenclaw, and MADAME ROSMERTA.

I lose. Not only are all those girls hella pretty, he had to shag the object of most boys' lust, Madame Rosmerta.

I should just die here and now.

But then again... fuck that bloody twat-faced prick. He just goes for easy sluts. No skill involved, just a _royal summons_.

I'm not a mistress. I'm a bloody fucking princess. I will not be summoned like some whore. My men will come to me, thankyouverymuch.

I'm mad, yeah... but I'm also sad. I don't know why.

Am I not good enough? According to well-placed sources in the male population, I'm ranked up there with Pansy Parkinson and Nella Tracy. Both apparently have been successful conquests of Malfoy.

But I guess it's hard to see past my sea of brothers and my blatant Gryffindor... ness. And I'm a ginger, so that... And some people don't like freckles even though I only have a bit... And I'm short, I suppose.

Dear Merlin, I hate this. I don't like feeling this badly about myself, but I can't help it. There must be a reason, and it's one of the above.

Of course, I can't possibly admit any of these self-esteem issues with Mel. She'll just say, 'You're hot, Ginny, stop talking yourself down' and change the subject. She doesn't like to talk about her emotions, or really, quite frankly, hear deep ones of another.

That's not to say we aren't best friends, or that our relationship is bad. That is just who she is, and this is who I am.

But sometimes I don't even know if she realizes the extent of my self esteem problems. Fiery strength up front is nothing when the inside feels cold.

I used to think that Malfoy was cold through and through. But not I'm realizing he's the opposite of me. Dark and cold on the outside with a budding warmth on the inside.

I used to have warmth all around.

I think I lost it when I dated Harry.

He never really complimented me, or cherished me, or anything boyfriends are supposed to do. The whole time, in retrospect, kinda seemed like he was doing _me_ a favor by going out with me. As if I should thank him.

Well, shit.

Dammit Malfoy. What have you done to me? I'm toeing this slippery slope into depression because of you and your... everything. Why did I save you? It would have saved me loads of emotional stress if I would have just let you jump.

But I don't regret it.

I'M SO CONFUSED. I don't understand myself.

Oh yeah, and I haven't been asked to the dance. It seems like Harry is scaring people, despite the fact that he's going with Luna.

I miss Luna.

I see her in classes and such, but...

We just fell apart after the Harry Debacle.

This is bad, diary. I haven't been this down on myself since dad got attacked by that snake.

Then, at least Harry was there. Even though he was snogging Cho not a day before.

This isn't jealousy. This is just a fact.

What am I doing?

I just... I want _out_.

I want to kick off all this shit that binds me down to this depression. I don't even know what it all is. This war. Harry. 'Good' versus 'evil'. I don't get any of it anymore.

I just want to the power to protect people. Everyone.

I'm sorry.

No, I'm not.

I don't know.

I'm weak, really.

But maybe because I recognize that, I'm strong.

Doesn't make sense.

Things don't anymore.

I haven't written my feelings in a diary like this since... Tom. Voldemort.

Fuck it all.

Something's wrong with me.

I feel so dark.

No, this is NOT because Malfoy ignored me. This is not because of breaking up with Harry.

Being alone has allowed me to realize my own darkness. How it's always been there, just hidden under the questionable side of good I fight for.

WHAT AM I SAYING? Of course they're right! Killing muggles is wrong. I know that. Voldemort and what he stands for is evil.

But people under his banner might not be. They might be forced. They meaning Malfoy.

My logic doesn't make sense.

Something is wrong with me. I shouldn't feel sympathy and responsible for people who made that choice, for whatever reason.

Just... just don't listen to me. I don't know what I'm talking about.

Fuck this.

I hate how these entries always start off light and fluffy and end with... deep shit.

Stupid stupid stupid.

* * *

"Draco..."

The darkness was almost absolute. All he could see of his partner was her silhouette, a touch blacker than the shadowy surroundings. Draco didn't really even care where he was. 5th floor behind the portrait of Wily Waderstrong? 3rd floor at the bottom of the secret stairs?

He was actually mixing up his midnight romps. Who even was this?

Whoever she was, she approached him slowly, coming close enough for Draco to smell her perfume. It was sickly sweet, like too ripe strawberries. He wasn't one for sweet things, but he endured.

"Come 'ere, love." Draco purred, leaning back against the cold wall. His eyes were adjusting now, and he could begin to see her features. Her blonde hair, for instance.

Blonde... Vinora Henry. Hufflepuff. 6th year. She leaned in closer, but not enough to touch. Her warmth was tangible... the warm contact reminded him closeness of having two people on one broom...

Unwarranted thoughts of Ginevra Weasley shot through his mind with the power of a train. Her smile, her glow, her _warmth_. He wanted it again. To embrace it. To forever hold the light of the one person who claimed she saw it in himself. But he had to wait. To drag out the game. Or did he? The confusion sent a shot of anger through him.

With a growl he pushed away the Hufflepuff slut he picked up, shoving her back. Draco was breathing heavily, his anger and frustration clear even in the dim light. Vinora backed again, terrified. She had her hands raised in front of her chest, trying to put a wall between them. She, or anyone, rather, hadn't seen him look so mutinous before.

"Draco... what-"

"Get the fuck out of here." He breathed, pushing himself off the wall, exposing his full and intimidating height.

Without anything but a squeak of assent, she fled for the door, and it was only until it shut and he heard her run back down the hall did he let out his breath.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked himself, falling back onto the wall again. He slid to the ground, hugging his knees. His rage was simmering down into self-loathing.

He wanted Ginny so badly, it hurt sometimes. Unexplainable though it was, he couldn't get her off his mind, even after 3 and a half weeks of ignoring her.

But he had to ignore her. There was no way he could shag around with her. It would get back to Potter which would then add a bloody ton of stress to his already loaded plate. Not that he shied away from any confrontation with the arrogant scar-head, but right now... just wasn't a good time.

And yet, instead of figuring out any possible way to get out of Voldemort's web, he had spent the last 3 weeks coveting the redhead. It was as if one go with her would mysteriously solve all his problems. And then he could feel her warmth again, find his own light that she saw...

On thinking this, Draco slapped himself. The sound echoed around the walls, but he didn't care about anybody hearing. No, he was instead filled with that same self-loathing. The fear of this game they were playing.

The idea that she might be able to save him.

The thought that he wanted her to.

* * *

It was official. Blaise and Pansy were going to the ball together. Lovely. Not because they liked each other, it was just because it was easiest that way. And hell, no one on earth could say they were an ugly couple.

This left Draco... well...

"Draco. Get a date." Pansy muttered, laying on her back on one of the leather couches in the Slytherin common room.

"Pansy. Get a life." Draco retaliated, in the same position she was, only on an adjacent couch.

Blaise, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the front of the couch Draco lay on, laughed. "Drakie's got you there. Shouldn't you be figuring out your dress or some girly shit?"

She scoffed. "I already know, prick. Our color is deep, royal purple. My dress is slinky, haltered, with an open back. You are going white shirt, black dress robe, deep purple skinny—I cannot stress this enough, SKINNY—tie. My dress'll match the tie. I'm wearing black pumps. Done."

That silenced the two boys. She said that completely nonstop. Gotta love Pansy and her unbeatable knowledge of fashion and everything girly ever.

"And masks?" Draco asked, remembering it was a masquerade.

"Simple and black. No need to futz with decorations when you look good anyway. We're doing the 'simple, but you couldn't look this good no matter how hard you tried' thing we always do."

Pansy: 2, Boys: 0.

"Well since Pansy, you won that round, I guess I'll hear your date nonsense." Draco muttered, raising one of his arms straight up in the air for no apparent purpose.

Pansy scoffed. "I have nothing to say but, 'get a date'. Going stag is for pansies."

"Your name is Pansy." Blaise muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, and Blaise is always blazed. _Hilarious_." Pansy shot back before redirecting her attention to Draco. She was on fire today. "Isn't there a girl you want to ask?"

_Yes. _"No."

"Is there any girl in particular you want to shag?"

_Yes. _"No."

"Will you go for anyone younger maybe?" Blaise muttered, his tone haughty. He did know about Ginny, after all.

Draco pinched Blaise in the neck. "I don't care. Can't you just find me a date?"

His question was directed at Pansy, who sat up and began to fix her hair. "Well, the last person I set you up with got screamed at for no apparent reason last week."

Ah, yes. Vinora Henry. Draco did feel a little bad about that one.

"Better question." Blaise said, stretching his arms up. "What attractive girl doesn't have a date yet?"

"Hell if I know about some less popular people... but... Nella Tracy, Jennifer Lawrence, Gwen Holland, and Selma Smith don't have dates. Oh, and Ginny Weasley and her friend Melanie Meadows don't _yet_ have dates, but I know of someone asking. And then-" Pansy said lightly, counting them off her fingers.

Draco bolted upright and turned his head to look at Pansy. "Who!"

Knowing the full situation, Blaise started to chuckle, but Pansy looked at Draco oddly. "Who, what?"

"Which one?" If only he could see how cute he was right now. Obviously flustered because some other arse was trying to get with his... er, not _his_, but _that_ girl.

"Which one? Er, Sebastian Michaels."

He was one hair short of losing his mind. "No, which _girl_ Pansy!"

"Meadows. What has gotten into you, Draco? You're acting like..." Pansy asked, but then narrowed her eyes. She had seen Draco breathe a sigh of relief when she declared the name. She looked between Blaise laughing on the floor to Draco trying to cover up his obviousness and sighed. "Why didn't either of you _tell me_ that Draco wants the Weasley girl?"

Win. Draco looked away and Blaise whooped in victory. She shook her head, muttering, "I don't care who, as long as it's someone. Weasley's actually..."

At the speed of light, Blaise and Draco turned their heads to face Pansy, their eyes wide. She noticed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

They sheepishly looked away. Blaise was the first to respond. "Pansy... you've never complimented another girl before... ever."

Pansy froze. She indeed was about to more-or-less compliment her. "Get off it. It doesn't matter. What matters is shaking this dreary school up a bit."

This stole Draco's attention from the portrait door and back to her. "What do you mean?" _She couldn't possibly be insinuating-_

"Nothing." Pansy smiled, shrugging. She got up, dusted off her skirt, and began to walk towards her dorm. "Just food for thought."

When they heard the door close, Draco fell back onto the couch. His stomach gave a painful spike.

"Speaking of food..."

Blaise smiled brightly, standing up. "Lunchtime. Time to stalk Ginny Weasley."

"Eh?"

* * *

"Ok let's think about this..." Mel started, putting her palms on her temples, her elbows on the Gryffindor table.

"Nothing to think about." Ginny growled. She tapped her pale blue nails on the table cloth irritatedly.

The topic, of course, was the ball. What else?

"There's Roger Cliff. He's not bad."

The redhead scoffed. "He has a pig nose."

"Satchel McCall?"

"Going with that Heda girl. He asked today." Ginny sighed, changing her position angrily. She was now leaning on the table, head in her arms. "I already told you, I'm not going. I'll go to Hogsmeade instead, catch a floo to some pub in London, and party until the inferno comes. I'm not going to the dance."

Something went off in Mel. She lowered her face so her bangs covered her eyes. "I don't have a date either, princess. It's not the bloody end of the world."

Dangerous waters.

"I don't want to go. You do. Principal difference." Ginny covered, not wanting to alienate her friend at this time. Not now, when she was the most alone she had ever been.

Cue worst thing ever. She accidentally caught the eye of Blaise at the Slytherin table. Ginny buried her face in her arms further.

Mel sighed, staring mutinously at her best friend. As she moved to pick up her bag, the hall was suddenly graced with beautiful chirping noises and the soft flapping of wings. She and everyone else in the hall, including the sullen Ginny, looked at the phenomenon.

There was a flock of white birds that suddenly entered the hall, soaring beautifully in formation. This was another engagement for the ball. Someone was being asked. As opposed to the Yule Ball 3 years prior, this time around people were asking each other with pizazz. It was always exciting. The best one thus far was definitely Satchel McCall asking Heda Hockshire this morning.

He arranged for one of his friends to kidnap her, dressed as a flamboyant villain. The villain would carry the "caught" princess with him with various traps and trials for a knight in shining armor, Satchel McCall in disguise, to fight for her. First stage he found off a suit of armor, then chased the villain in an epic broom race around the grounds. Heda was laughing the whole time, watching the severely dramatized fights and medieval speech.

The last task was to defeat the evil wizard in a magic duel, clearly choreographed. Once he won, he threw off his helm and dropped to one knee, asking her to the ball.

Epic win.

The whole hall was excited at this new way of asking, stemming from the clearly summoned birds and their trails of sparkles.

Then Sebastian Michaels walked through the doors, letting more of the pretty birds in. He raised his wand and waved it in an intricate motion, causing the birds to fly towards the Gryffindor table.

Ginny's heart leaped for a second. What if he was asking _her_? Sebastian Michaels was a handsome Ravenclaw in their year. Very smart, very talented, and the type that settled down with girls. Not that Ginny needed that right now, but still!

Mel, who was standing now, watching the birds interestedly, began to walk down the isle heading for the door. Sebastian smiled and walked down the same isle, directing the birds with his wand. Ginny knew then, it wasn't her. She couldn't help feel down, despite how unlikely it was that he was asking her. It wasn't her, it was Mel.

The clueless girl just walked swiftly heading for the door, assuming it was for someone else. The birds were flying in a large circle around the area now, slowly getting smaller around Sebastian and Mel. She still didn't notice.

Honestly, she put her head down as not to draw attention to the display. What a dork.

She literally _walked past_ Sebastian, who reached to grab her wrist lightly, slight confusion on his cute face. Mel was turned around, her one hand now clasped in both of his. The hall was silent at this. It was really sweet.

Smiling with a hint of blush, Sebastian dropped to his knees in front of her, still holding her hand. Despite Ginny's jealousy, she couldn't help but smile at the stupid look on her friend's face.

"Fancy a date to the dance, love?" He asked, the blush still evident. It was almost too cute.

Suddenly struck with a severe blush, Mel couldn't speak. She just nodded twice before smiling wide and nodding about 80 times more. The hall erupted in cheers as he stood and said something else.

Apparently what he said pleased Mel, because she smiled brightly and looked back to Ginny for a moment before motioning leaving with him. Ginny just smiled warmly and nodded. Such was their friendship.

Sebastian put his hand on her back as they began to walk out of the hall. Pretty gutsy move.

The hall soon quietened as they left, though there was a lingering feeling of love in the air. Girls were giggling and swooning at the cuteness, boys were nodding appreciatively, and Ginny felt like she wanted to vomit.

Ginny hated feeling jealous of her friend, and she hated not being able to help it. Everyone has their sin, and hers was envy.

So the mentally messed princess hid her face in her arms again, trying to think about anything but what just happened.

* * *

"Michaels was good." Blaise muttered appreciatively with a nod. "But look at Weasley now. If this was any other girl, now would be the time to strike, mate."

Draco's face darkened at the ringing truth of his words. He chanced a glance at Ginny, who's hunched-over form simply radiated depression.

"Did you happen to overhear Meadows and Weasley's conversation before Michael asked?" Blaise muttered as if it was nothing.

Draco turned to his friend in apprehension. "No... did you...? Oh." It was then that he finally noticed the disillusioned extendable ear. His sharp eyes followed the distorted, chameleon-like cord to where it snaked along the edge of the wall, heading towards where the girls were.

"You snake." Draco smirked, shaking his head in mirth.

"Truer words were never spoken. But Little Weasley doesn't want to go to the ball. She plans on flooing to a pub in London and getting trashed instead. Good girl."

"Why are we listening in on her conversations, again?" Draco asked, wanting to be anywhere but here. "This is a load of bull."

He just really wanted to leave. Deciding to beg the house elves of food from the kitchens, he got up, pulled the Extendable from Blaise's ear forcefully and strode away despite his friend's protests.

"Oi! Where are you going?" Blaise called, rubbing his ear.

"Somewhere else." Draco dismissed with a half-assed wave of his hand.

As he neared the door, he couldn't help stealing his daily glance at Ginny and found, to his utter horror, that she was in a parallel row right at the door. They were about 10 feet away from each other, but she had yet to notice him.

It was simply terrible. Draco just froze, making for her to leave first. This plan, while strategic as it was, did not take into account a) sense, and b) manners.

Ginny, though she kept her eyes on her feet, sensed a person – Draco – behind her and in keeping with good manners went through and held the door open for him. Not knowing it was him, of course. The second or so before Ginny looked back at the person she was holding the door for was like an arduous countdown. As if you knew the moment of your death was but a second away. Dramatic, yes, but that's Draco Malfoy for you.

He held his breath when their eyes met. It was almost worth it for the look on her face. At first her hazel eyes widened cutely, then they sunk into a strange deep terror. Her breath was caught in her chest like his was.

"Thanks." Draco made out with difficulty. It seemed like his throat was sealed. Ginny said nothing, just holding the heavy door open with one arm. After a while she nodded but didn't move an inch. Neither seemed to want to move and were caught staring at each other.

_She looks sick._ He thought, taking note of her slightly sunken eyes, limp hair, and overall deterioration of posture. _Then again... I look the same. _

Ginny seemed to have the same thought. "You look sick." She said sweetly before regaining that look of horror from before. "Sorry, um, I mean, hi...?"

In any other situation, it would have been cute as a button. Hell, it still was a little cute. Her observation came out before a formal hello. Because of it, Draco laughed a little. "You do too. I mean, _hi_."

The joke seemed to break the tension slightly. Maybe break wasn't the best word. More like _crack_.

It was then apparent to both of them that there were two people who wanted to get out of the hall behind them. Ginny jumped and walked through the door, holding it out for Draco, who bolted out of there.

Now in the entrance hall, awkwardness resumed full force. Ginny pretended to be looking for something in her bag while Draco smoothed out his shirt. Strangely, both had forgotten their destinations in the flurry of emotions.

In the period of strange limbo, both came to a chilling realization. _We affect each other in the same way. _A way that was more than just lust. And it was almost too nonsensical to comprehend. There was something very small, yet very potent between them. Harry'd be mega pissed.

They were not comfortable around each other, but something inexplicable drew them together. And it seemed that the more they skirted around it, the greater toll it took on their wellness. It was almost painful. Their game was destroying them both, their feelings so raw and foreign that it seemed unnatural. It was the bond formed when one wizard saved another's life. But the circumstances were strange, and the magic was thus different.

Thankfully, they were by a corner, attracting little-to-no attention.

The first one to speak, after a good _minute_, was Draco.

Ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy will now introduce you to the concept of _Word Vomit_:

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?"


	5. Compliments

I rearranged this after some helpful critique from a reader. It makes more sense and flows better. I think. Anyway, here we go.

OH YEAH BY THE WAY GUYS I'M ELITE AT UPDATING

* * *

Ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy will now introduce you to the concept of Word Vomit:

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?"

Ginny Weasley was also well versed in Word Vomit. "Yes."

Neither of them moved from where they were in the corner of the Entrance Hall.

"You feel it." Ginny muttered, breaking eye contact in favor of her feet. "What-"

"I looked it up." Draco interrupted, running his hand through is hair sheepishly.

She had to laugh at this. He just shot her a smirk before continuing. "But I came up with nothing."

"You are so thick." Ginny laughed, not being able to help it. He was completely taken aback so she continued. "This isn't something defined by a book. You can't explain this."

"The pact made between wizards when one saves another's life-"

"-does not apply. I looked it up too." Ginny said, shrugging.

"You little hypocrite." Draco chortled, shaking his head before looking down at her. Though traces of the sickliness he had seen still lingered, there was an unmistakable glow about her. He reckoned he shared it now too.

"I tried... I tried bloody hard to justify this... thing between us as some old magic..." Ginny muttered, leaning against the wall now, a finger on her lip dramatically. "But I have to admit now it's not."

Draco was silent, just looking at her face. Her long, expressive eyebrows, her deep red hair, the adorable smattering of freckles on her nose... it was all so different and so Ginny.

"The ma~a~gic of lo~ove." Draco sang lightly, once again the words just coming out of his mouth. After the last note, he screwed up his face as if hoping she didn't just hear that. Nice try, Draco.

Ginny couldn't help it. She just burst out laughing, actually having to hold her side because it was too much. Draco Malfoy didn't sing. No.

"Hey. Slytherins like music too!" Draco said, pretending to be offended.

Ginny, still giggling, shook her head. "Yeah, but I reckoned it was just classical music and... silence."

"This is good." He realized, reaching out on a whim to grab a lock of her hair. He smiled at her intake of breath at the motion and took a step closer. "We can converse while sober."

She blushed, but smiled through it sweetly. "Now we know this is real."

"Your hair is soft." Draco murmured, smiling lightly.

"I bet yours is too..." Ginny stated plainly, that spark in her eyes present. "Do you mind if I..." She wiggled her hand slightly, as if he could figure out what that meant.

But he could. "Mess the fuck out of it."

If was like he just gave her Christmas. She hopped closer, a huge bright smile on her face, then stepped on her tip-toes and proceeded to absolutely mess it up. "It IS soft..." she giggled, completely mixing the strands around, ending with her determinately aiming to do a faux hawk.

"Ginny!"

Oh yeah, they were in plain sight. Forgot about that. She knew that voice from years of living in the same house with the idiot. Draco stiffened, dropping the lock of her hair he was still holding. Of all the things to happen...

Ron Weasley couldn't speak, but his ears did the talking for him in turning bright red. He just sputtered nonsense words. That was her idiot brother in a nutshell. How Hermione could ever like that bumbling fool was far beyond her.

Ginny stepped away from Malfoy, her mind running a hundred miles a minute. Should she just come out with it all or deny everything? Her eyes glanced at Draco, seeing he was clearly letting her take the lead on this one. But in seeing his faux hawk, she just giggled.

Truth or Lie?

"Jealousy is unbecoming, Ron."

Or just make fun of him, that works too. Ron frowned, clearly completely thrown. It was as if the words just did not compute in his mind.

"I mean, come on! We've always secretly wanted to mess up Malfoy's hair!"

There it was. The one truth in the midst of all the lies. The Golden Trio and Co. always secretly wanted to mess up his hair. Draco was flabbergasted.

Ginny just didn't know when to quit. "I mean look!" She whisper-yelled at Ron behind her hand. She then mouthed the words 'Faux Hawk' to him.

Draco's eye twitched and Ron seemed to come back to his senses. "Get away from him Ginny!"

"Why?" She asked defiantly, hands on her hips. The tone of the conversation changed now. Battle Ginny was approaching.

A flabbergasted Ron shook his head. "Because he's Malfoy."

Draco was sick of being silent. "You're right for once, Weasley."

There was a stare-off between them and Ginny just sighed, Battle Mode having been cut short by Draco's interference. This was too much. She forgot to think that Ron would tell Harry and that would be a lot of stress. She just wanted to get to the dance before being overwhelmed. Luckily it was in less than a week. Because of this, she lightly touched Draco's arm before walking over to her brother. "Fine, Ron. Sorry I upset the apple cart." She rolled her eyes at this.

"You should be sorry. Shove off, Malfoy." Ron spat, clearly thinking he won this round.

A pointed glance from Ginny allowed Draco to catch on to the initial plan. "Nothing would make me happier than to leave the presence of Weasleys."

She narrowed her eyes. Took it too far, Draco! Knowing he had to fix that, he added, "At least being with the Weaslette gives me something good to look at."

Ding ding ding! Fixed it with a compliment! Nice save, Malfoy!

Ginny shook her head, though there was an obvious smile plastered on her pretty face. She just grabbed Ron's arm, stopping him from pouncing on Draco and destroying him. "Come find Hermione with me, Ronald. I need Potions help."

Draco looked down his nose at them and began to walk towards the kitchens. Ron, defeated by his beloved sister's needs and the prospect of seeing Hermione, began to trudge up the stairs. Sneakily, Ginny stayed a few steps below and managed to steal a glance back.

Leaning against the doorway towards the dungeons clearly waiting for her look, Draco smirked and waved one hand, to which she smiled brightly and stuck out her tongue. With hearts weighed down with happiness, the two went their separate ways, thinking a) how awesome this was going to be, and b) wondering how on earth this could ever work.

* * *

Diary.

I don't even know, man. So I'm kinda going to the ball with Draco.

My hand is shaking. I don't think I can write any more than this. If you can even read this.

I'll write more when I stop dying.

What. The. Fuck.

* * *

"Listen up Gingerbread." Pansy started, standing intimidatingly in front of what was currently a blank stretch of wall. In a minute, after walking past it 3 times and wishing with all your might, a door would appear. But for now Pansy Parkinson guarded the stone like it was her own child.

Ginny was taken aback by the nickname. But realized she had to deal with it if she wanted to at least be accepted by Pansy and Blaise.

"First thing's first. I'm going to call you things that resemble your name because it feels weird for me to call you... _Ginny_." Pansy ordered, and Ginny nodded in assent. It was kind of weird, but now the use of surnames was strange as well.

"Then you're..." Ginny tilted her head as she gazed upwards in thought. "Pancake."

A sliver of a smile appeared on her face, but it was gone so quickly Ginny probably imagined it in the first place. "You know, in keeping with the food... theme."

Pancake actually smiled at this, but it melted into a smirk. "Now that that's done, I'm going to let you in to a place that is my life. Do you understand me, Ginger? My life."

Ginny just nodded, wondering what on earth this could be about. It was two days till the ball, and she had received a note at lunch telling her to come to the Room of Requirement. She hoped this wasn't going to take too long, because she had plans to skip the rest of her day, sneak into Hogsmeade, and buy a dress. With money she didn't have.

"That being said..." Pansy nodded her head at Ginny. "Don't move things from their designated spots, otherwise you'll have one bloody raging pancake on your hands."

This caused Ginny to laugh loudly. They were getting along pretty well, given the circumstances. Without further ado, Pansy began walking back and forth three times, her eyes closed and her sharp features set in heavy concentration. When she opened her eyes, a door had materialized. _Her_ door. For this room meant a lot to her; more than anyone besides Blaise and Draco could ever know.

Pansy entered first, and Ginny was left to stand in the doorway and stare. It was a fashion designers studio. Manikins of different body shapes were in every corner; fabric, thread, and measuring tape littered over every surface. She looked to a well-lit island in the middle, where stacks of papers and scrolls were piled haphazardly all over. There were drawing boards to the side of this island.

"Pans... Pancake... This is..." Ginny was struck. Pansy made no note of her companion's awe, instead moving to the nearest surface and snatching up a measuring tape.

Now that she had a full view of the room, Ginny's eyes fell upon the most incredible of everything in the room. One wall of pure clothing racks filled with finished products of every colour, material, and style. It was organized by function, like cloaks or skirts, and in those sections was further colour-coded, and racked up length. Furthermore, there was also a section of male clothes, organized the same way.

"I told you this is my life, Gingerbread." Pansy muttered, walking over to a manikin and eyeing it.

"There is nothing I can say... Nothing _anyone_ can say that can define how amazing this is." Ginny said simply, reaching out to touch a petty coat, but then retracting her hand, remembering Pansy's warning about messing stuff up.

Had Pansy been facing Ginny, the latter might have seen a blush on the pale face.

"You did all of this?" She asked, although she knew the answer.

"Draco helped." Pansy muttered, then winced. She didn't want to let that slip, but too late.

"You mean..."

The brunette turned to look at her creations and the lines of coloured fabric with a small smile, knowing she might as well tell the girl. "He payed for most of it in 6th year. It was a birthday gift."

Her voice dropped at the end of her sentence to a low, sort of loving tone. This was not left unnoticed by Ginny. "You really love him, don't you?"

The atmosphere had changed, but for some reason it seemed OK. Pansy looked at Ginny for a few long moments, appraising her. Then her face softened as she sighed. _She's more complex than I gave her credit for._ Ginny acknowledged, smiling lightly.

This thought was ascertained when Pansy's face lit up in a bright smirk. "Not like you do, Gingerbread."

Cue blush. Ginny's face damn-near matched her hair.

"Red's a good colour on you." Pansy said, smirking. "Come look at your fabric."

"Wait..." Ginny muttered, looking at her feet. "Is this for me?"

There was a silence before Pansy burst out laughing. It was a high sound, but not shrill. Despite the touch of debonair elitism, it was a pleasant laugh . Ginny looked up from her shoes in surprise.

"Of course it is!" She said, still chuckling. "Draco cannot go to a ball with a girl wearing a secondhand dress. No offense, love."

She was startled by this. "None... none taken."

"This is good for you to know, Ginger. People like Draco and I are not seen in the company of hand-me-downs. This may be blunt of me, but if you are to be with us, you must keep a certain appearance." Pansy finished with a nod.

"Trust me, I know." Ginny responded lightly. Everyone and their _mum_ knew that about the Slytherin royalty.

"Draco, Blaise, and I have had it beat into our heads from a very young age not to be seen with anyone deemed lower. You have to walk the halls like you own them. Which we see you already do."

Ginny shrugged. Yeah, she had some attitude, what of it?

"But listen to me Ginger." Pansy said, a note of finality in her tone. "You're alright, for a Gryffindor. I might actually go so far as to say I like you."

Despite all the Gryffindor-Slytherin history, Ginny had always wanted Pansy – noted as the fashion queen – to approve of her. She could feel a warm ball in her stomach at her praise.

"The real reason I am making you look bloody spectacular is because I want to make Draco happy. He changed after you smacked sense into him, and this is how I'm thanking you. You got us our friend back." Pansy's face was impossible to read at this point.

Was it weird that Ginny wanted to cry a little? Maybe. She managed to choke out a few words despite her clenched throat. "Thank you."

Pansy checked her watch, jumped, and then clapped her hands once. "Let's get cracking, shall we?"

She began to walk over to a wall of fabric motioning with one manicured finger for Ginny to follow. The redhead began to walk, but slowly.

"He changed me too, you know." She said quietly, though sure Pansy could hear.

When she reached the taller girl's side, Pansy looked down at her out of the corner of her eye. "Hurt him and I'll break you."

"I'm sure you will." Ginny agreed, matching Pansy's grin with her own.

Tapping the measuring tape with her wand, Pansy began to create a masterpiece. The next hour was nothing but a flurry of magic and motion. Ginny was in awe of Pansy's certainty and skill. She had a very practiced hand for fashion magic, which was something most witches struggled to master.

Somewhere near the end of the process, Pansy stopped suddenly. "Wait, what shoe size are you?"

"Er... 38." Ginny answered, using the European system of shoe sizes.

Pansy just nodded. To hell if Ginny knew what that meant.

But she knew one thing. She and Pansy would be getting along just fine from now on.

* * *

Draco was late in getting back to the common room that night. He was taking a lot of midnight flies around the grounds lately. And as an added bonus he had run into Ginny who was walking back from the kitchens. However, she had been with a younger student, presumably showing her where the kitchens were. There wasn't much of a conversation, but Ginny managed to run her hand over his bare arm as she past. The brief contact was enough to send him into a happy buzz.

When he entered his dorm he saw Pansy looking through Blaise's closet, the owner himself laying on his back on Draco's bed.

"Why is it always _my _bed?" Draco asked, shaking his head. Despite his tone, there was a small smile lighting up his features.

"Comfy." Blaise replied simply. He rolled over to face his friend, frowning. "You look happy, mate. What's wrong?"

The stupidity of his statement caused Pansy to throw a shiny black dress shoe at him. "He should be happy."

Draco sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for her to continue.

"Gingerbread Weasley is going to be looking even better than I will. I even tried to tone it down, but no. She is radiant. Glowing. Draco, what have you _done_ to this girl?"

Good question.

Draco smiled even wider. "That's a lot then, if she'll look better than our very own goddess of beauty herself."

Compliments for the win.

"You need to come to my place for your own outfit. Without my helping you, she's got you beat. We want it to be at least even." Pansy muttered, finding the other black dress shoe that she had been looking for. She held out her hand and Blaise tossed the one she had thrown at him moments before. "These'll do." She said quietly, laying them neatly at the foot of Blaise's bed.

"What is there for me?" Draco asked.

Pansy sat on Blaise's bed, crossing her legs delicately. "Black pants, black tailcoat, deep red vest, dark white shirt, black bow tie. You have a half-mask thats black with elaborate yet masculine carved designs."

She really was on fire today.

Draco leaned back on his bed with a soft 'flump'. Both he and Blaise could fit quite nicely considering the clever Stretching Charm applied to it. It made that which appeared to be a twin mattress actually twice as large. Magic. Love it.

So far, only Blaise, Pansy, and Melanie, Ginny's friend, knew about their pairing. And they meant to keep it that way. Draco hadn't talked to her face to face since last Sunday, mainly because of their shared wish to keep it under wraps. But sometimes they couldn't help sending a note or two.

The latest one she sent was at lunch this afternoon:

_I just want to stand up and announce to the whole hall that I'm going to the ball with you. Is that a problem?_

His response:

_We'll do it together. "Look everyone, we're committing serious taboo, but it doesn't matter! Oh and Potter, you have egg on your lip."_

Hers:

_I don't think Harry has eaten eggs since that incident. _

He then followed up with asking her to meet Pansy at the Room of Requirement. As he now knew, that went extremely well. Since his colour was red, he could only imagine what was made for his date. If Draco in red was sultry, Ginny in red was _deadly_.

_Red, huh._ He thought as he lie on the bed, realizing that he didn't care about house colours at all. Normally he tried to avoid wearing red as much as possible, obviously because of the Gryffindorks. He was actually conscious of finding an outfit with red in it.

But no. This was going to be... Hogwarts would have a heart attack. This wasn't supposed to happen. The pairing of Draco and Ginny went far beyond the cuteness of Romeo and Juliet. See, those kids were love at first sight, but our heroes had grown up hating each other. Add that to the bad blood between families, houses, and politics, throw in a little bit of breaking-up-with-Harry-Potter and you get... This.

It was going to blow up in their faces. They just hoped it wouldn't happen until the ball. Afterwards...

This was puzzling for both Draco and Ginny. What would happen after? This was a public declaration of "Fuck you all, love can exist in the most impossible ways".

His heart pounded painfully hard every time he saw her, completely stopping all thought in his head. Watching her laugh, watching her get mad, even watching her look blankly into space captivated him beyond measure. Blaise and Pansy could only make fun of Draco for his lovesickness, or whatever it was. They were sure to bring him down to earth with a hearty slap whenever he zoned out too much though, thank Merlin.

Melanie warned Ginny every day to watch her step, knowing that while the redhead was clever enough to talk her way out of minor slip-ups, one of these days it'd be too hard to cover up. Every time Mel tried to bring up whatever would happen _after _the ball, Ginny just covered her ears.

On the rare time she actually chose to talk about the future of her and Draco, all she said was this, "We're waiting to see how it goes at the ball."

Despite the private reassurance, everyone involved knew this wasn't going to be quiet.

* * *

Awake late in the Gryffindor common room after running into Draco and sending the 3rd year off to bed, Ginny sat by herself, holding her hand between her thighs for warmth. The tips of her fingers, only those on the left side, were freezing. She didn't quite understand it.

_What did I do? I went to the kitchens with Claire... then ran into Draco... then... came here. _

Absentmindedly in her search for warmth, she reached her hand towards the fire, putting her digits dangerously close to the embers. After a few moments, they began to warm up a touch, but crouching over like so was uncomfortable, making her sit back in her chair and stick the fingers in her mouth to heat them.

Did she touch anything? A teacup. A painting... Nothing she hadn't touched before. She touched Draco's arm...

_I've never touched the skin on his arm before._ She realized, finding it silly for some reason.

Left hand. Her left was his left as she passed.

The Dark Mark. The tips of her fingers had grazed his mark, but that alone was enough to make them cold.

She honestly didn't know what to make of that. The conclusion was so quick, it might have been the sleepiness talking. Said sleepiness was also stopping her from think more about it. It probably wasn't connected at all to him and her sleep-deprived mind was making ties where they shouldn't be.

Tomorrow was Thursday. The ball was Friday.

Come what may.

* * *

_It was the deepest darkness she had ever experienced before. She didn't even know who she WAS, let alone see her hands as she raised them in front of her face. Was she really raising them at all? Was there a corporeal body attached to this consciousness? Regardless, she stayed put, not daring to move lest... something happened. _

_But something did. A voice rang out of the darkness, full of a sort of cruel joy. _

"_Ah... Miss Weasley has grown up!"

* * *

_

The review button-type-thing is so near to your mouse. Why not clicky clicky? It really makes my day. Really. Please review! I LOVE YOU FANFICTIONDOTNET!_  
_


	6. The Gingerbread Dragon

Theater theater theater is controlling my life.

This is 1/17 filler fluff and 16/17 plot line. That is how I roll.

Love love love everywhere.

I was listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack while writing some of this. Props if you can guess the quote.

Also, WHOA WHOA WHOA TITLE CHAPTER. Just because I say so.

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Draco asked, his hand tightening on Ginny's.

"Who do you think you're talking to, Dragon?" She replied, though the twitch in her hand betrayed her. She took a deep breath, her chest stretching against the corset top of her dress.

"I'm talking to you, Gingerbread. Although can you breathe in that dress, love?"

They were stalling and both knew it.

Ginny looked up at him, bright hazel eyes shining through her half-mask. It was the more lacy, feminine counterpart to Draco's Mask. "It doesn't matter if I can breathe or not as long as I look smashing, right?"

He smiled down at her. "Pansy has taught you well."

They were hiding at the top of the stairs, looking down at the Entrance Hall where the last of the couples in their finery were streaming into the welcoming doors. Already could they hear light music and voices coming from within as people went to their tables to eat.

Still holding his hand, she took a step closer to his side. "This is going to be hell."

Draco nodded, lifting his chin higher in the air as if to appear more courageous. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Nothing else to do than go."

"I suppose you're right." He admitted, lifting their intertwined hands and kissing her hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Together they began to emerge from the shadows and began their slow descent down the stairs.

* * *

Wait, wait, no. That's not right. I can't start with that. Rewind to approximately 2:00 pm that day when Draco and Ginny had a date-like-thing.

A picnic-nap date-like-thing.

* * *

Friday, approximately 2:00 pm... 5 hours from the ball.

"Draco... this is..." Words failed Ginny as she was brought to a secluded picnic. Plaid blanket, wicker-basket, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice set the idyllic scene, a pretty oak tree casting a spotted shadow over the whole set-up.

Best of all, it was in a corner of the grounds where nobody would see them, hidden by magic

"Merlin's Beard! What is all this?" Draco exclaimed dramatically, a pale hand over his heart. "It was _supposed _to be a talking Unicorn foal. I was about to give it to you! This is terrible."

Ginny just kicked off her flats and stepped on the blanket lightly, wiggling her toes and giggling brightly. He just smiled and paused to drink in her shining appearance. It was a warm, clear day so she simply wore short, cutoff jean shorts and a light, loose-fitting, thick-strapped white tank top. Her hair was down and full of volume as usual.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, putting both hands on her hips.

He suddenly sprawled out on the blanket lazily, stretching like a cat at her feet. "You." Reaching up, he grabbed her hand quickly and pulled her down next to him.

She let herself be pulled down and wiggled so that she was on her side facing him. The butterflies that had inhabited her stomach since he had sought her out for this date-thing seemed to double with the close contact. But how could she help it? Draco looked immaculate as always in a pale blue, well-fitting quarter sleeved shirt and black jeans he rolled up because of the heat.

"Is this a date?" Ginny asked, not able to keep a smile off her face. He hadn't actually asked her on a date... he had just ambushed her on her way down to a late lunch and demanded she come with him.

Draco shrugged, which looked silly with one shoulder on the ground. "Could be."

"Because that would mean we're dating." She responded strongly, frowning a little.

"Could mean that, yes." Draco muttered, skirting around the issue. "Does it matter?"

Ginny paused for a bit, lost in thought. After a bit of thinking she smiled, "I guess not."

"I heard Pansy has taken to calling you Gingerbread." Draco stated, changing the subject. He didn't want to deal with thinking about the immediate future with Ginny. They were very tentative about this, but he thought he could understand Ginny's attempt to label it. She, unlike him, had always been in relationships and wasn't accustomed to little flings. Not that this was a little fling at all... but it was just unclassified at the present time.

"Pancake?" Ginny perked up immediately at the mention of Pansy. "Yeah, she does. I like her."

Draco smiled, glad it turned out like that. Pansy could be either a very good ally or a very demonic enemy in matters of love. "Blaise asked her about what she thought about you and she said, and I quote, '_She'll do._', which is the equivalent of her liking you too. Congratulations, you have overcome one of the greatest hurdles towards being involved with me."

"You~ur tu~urn." Ginny sang, meaning dealing with all the Gryffindors. Draco twitched at the thought.

She continued, bringing her knees up to her chest. "But then again for that we're taking the road through hell, so to speak."

He just nodded, the hesitation clear in his face.

"Draco..." Ginny caught the look that passed. "If you are going to be a twat and back out after this bloody ball..." She left the statement hanging dangerously. This girl, always quick to anger.

Draco felt a sort of heavy aura in the air as she got worked up. And when Ginny got worked up, her strong magic began to stir. He had seen it before when she had broken up with Harry; her hair had begun to blow around as a result of her powerful magic.

And how did he stop the hurricane from forming? He put a finger on her lip and leaned closer, kissing the finger in-between their lips lightly.

"Stop kissing yourself." She attempted to force out, for her lungs weren't working quite well at the moment.

He lightly placed his forehead to hers, their noses brushing. "Ginny."

Breathing was really hard for our resident redhead. Really hard.

"I was living in hell." Draco spoke softly, but every word was clear. "Until this crazy angel came and saved me."

"Hello, corny." Ginny muttered, though she knew he was telling the truth. She was characteristically bad at talking to people seriously like this without cracking some sort of joke to ease the tension. Must have picked it up from Fred and George.

"Slytherins are not as spineless as you think." He continued. "Although I don't rush into things blindly like Gryffindors..."

She laughed at this. Too true.

"We're going to do this, come what may." With a nod, he finished.

There was a thick silence and Ginny decided to sit up, leaning back on her hands.

"Dragon. That's yours."

He was bewildered, "What on-"

"Your nickname. I'm Gingerbread, and you're Dragon." She decided, nodding smugly.

That was a curveball, all right. That went straight over his head. "Are you serious...?"

"Yes."

God he loved her.

"We're the Gingerbread Dragon."

She turned her head to face him quickly. "Delicious."

Their conversation began to flow naturally as they drank pumpkin juice and cider and nibbled on little cakes. They began to talk about dreams sooner or later, and Draco captured her rapt attention as he told the story of the last big dream he could remember. Something about a sword, a fashion shoot, and him seducing a lethifold.

"Oh!" Ginny remembered something, putting her fingers to her lips subconsciously. "I had a strange dream Thursday night."

Draco nodded, signaling her to continue. Her attention was caught, however, by him licking his fingers of crumbs.

"Yeah, dream." the words tumbled out in a hurry, and Draco just smirked. "It... it was just complete darkness. Like, all encompassing, but oddly familiar. And then I heard this voice that said-"

"-_eat more pastries_..." Draco jumped in, adopting a strange mysterious dream voice as he moved a cake back and forth in front of her face.

She pushed his hand away playfully. "No, arse. This is serious. It was a very high, cold voice that said, '_Miss Weasley has grown up.'_ or something and then I woke up!"

In response, Draco pushed fruit pie into her mouth, making a grand mess in the process. "**Umf**Draco... stop**ph**..."

He just laughed and smeared it more around her face, pushing her over on to her back. Suddenly Draco was on top of her, and although she craved to snog him so badly, she put up one of her knees to stop him from coming closer. "Oh no you don't. Listen to my story, twit."

"But Ginny!" He whined, but followed her order.

"Listen. It freaked me out, I thought you should know." Ginny stated gruffly, sitting up and wiping the cream off her face swiftly.

Draco just leaned closer. "I was trying to comfort you."

Not many people have seen Draco Malfoy preform his puppy eyes. And no one has yet to come out of it unscathed.

Except Ginny Weasley.

"And another thing! You remember how I touched your arm when we met by the kitchens?" She continued, somehow fueled with more energy. He chose to actually pay more attention now, and so nodded his acknowledgment.

"I touched your mark."

He froze at this, a blob of cream hovering comically on his upper lip.

"My fingers... the ones I touched it with..." She brought her fingers up and examined them. "They were numb, Draco."

Suddenly the cream wasn't comical anymore. He sat up straight and grabbed her hand lightly, examining it. His scar was visible right now as he wasn't afraid of showing it to her. Ginny's eyes darted to it, then back to Draco's intense, concentrated stare.

_Darkness... __familiarity... __numbness... _ Draco had his brow furrowed as he mused over it, but came out with nothing that made a lick of sense.

"I don't know, Ginny. That doesn't happen when most wizards touch the mark." He said honestly, intertwining his fingers in hers. This action made her feel closer to him and dispelled all bad thoughts about the dream and the numbness.

"Wait... you said 'most wizards'..."

"Death Eaters. They feel his presence when they touch the scar of others." He muttered, looking down into his lap, his bangs covering his eyes.

Ginny just nodded, noting that he said, 'they' as opposed to, 'we'.

"I've never... touched another one so I don't rightly know." He admitted, letting go of her hand and unrolling his left sleeve to cover the unsightly tattoo. Cue self-consciousness.

Something about this sparked something in his memory. "You have a tattoo."

Ginny couldn't help grinning brightly. She simply shrugged, grabbing the pitcher of cider and pouring herself a glass. "You're right, Malfoy."

He tilted his head in curiosity, but was met by her wicked smile. "You'll have to wait till she decides to show herself."

Again, Draco was thrown. Then he remembered that magical tattoos have the ability to move and act as if they were a picture. It depended on the tattooist, of course, and the difficulty of the spell, but most of the times tattoos didn't move from their original spot, they just moved. This was the first time he heard of a tattoo that moved around the whole body.

"She?" He asked, extremely curious now. His eyes couldn't help drifting from her face, slowly examining every inch of the girl in front of him. He saw something move through the white top, but it moved to rest somewhere under her shorts pocket.

"I could just take off all your clothes..." He ventured, shrugging nonchalantly.

Hooray for casual sexuality!

"That you could." Ginny agreed, simply. "But that's no fun, is it?"

"I would argue that..."

Ginny laughed and switched positions so she was lying on her stomach, torso held up by her elbows. "I mean, yeah. But how about I give you a clue. It's my patronus, and changes if the patronus does."

This surprised the blond. "You can produce a patronus?" He was a little jealous. Then again, he could sense how much latent magical power was brewing in her small body. He lay next to her on the blanket and pulled a few strands of grass out of the ground absentmindedly.

"You're talking to one of the lieutenants of Dumbledore's Army." She said proudly, turning her head to look at him. This caused her to laugh at the look on his face. So he too remembered the year of the Inquisitorial Squad versus Dumbledore's Army. It seemed so long ago.

"Think you could teach me how?"

The question seemed to be suspended in the air as she thought about it. "I suppose. You know the basics, at least?"

Well, yeah. Draco had been studying and practicing his ass off this whole year. But the textbooks left a lot to be desired. They were missing something. "Expecto Patronum. I await a guardian."

"Indeed." She muttered, trying to think about how best to teach him. It was hard. He wasn't about to get it right off the bat. Harry was a surprisingly good teacher then. She smiled lightly at the fact that the knowledge he taught her, she was passing to his... er... enemy. "Essentially, you think about something happy, and then call the spell. If you are thinking hard enough, your patronus will come."

He nodded. "That's what the books said. But..."

"Then try this." She said, putting her hand on top of his and intertwining their fingers. "Think of something you want to protect. That you can't imaging living without. Not some time in your life of extreme happiness but something that you care about that you couldn't bear to lose. That helps me."

This wasn't actually what Harry had taught her. She realized that while happiness feeds magic, the point of the spell itself was to protect. So if you wish to protect, you have to think of what you _want_ to protect in the first place.

He was silent, thinking about what she said. Then he looked at her. "What's _your_ patronus?"

"I'll show you mine when you conjure your own." She said with a smirk.

"You are..." _Incredible. You are absolutely incredible. _"Fine. I'll take you up on that." He decided.

Ginny just smiled and laid out on her side, facing Draco. "What's the time, sir?"

"About 4."

_That went fast._ She realized with a start. Pansy wanted to meet her in her fashion room at 5:30 and she wanted to shower before that. "Fancy a nap?"

Draco hummed in content, rolling her over and pulling her into his embrace. "Sounds good to me, love." He purred, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck.

There would be hell to pay if they were late for Pansy's fitting.

* * *

"You certainly have a death wish." Blaise muttered, turning his black mask over and over again in his hands. They were sitting in Pansy's fashion room, waiting on her to be done with Ginny. This time the Room of Requirement had given Pansy another room connecting to her original. This served as the make-up/other nonsense room where Pansy and Ginny currently resided.

"You got that right." Draco agreed, running a hand over his hair, now slicked back regally. He stopped when he feared he would mess it up and then Pansy would _really_ have his head.

Draco and Ginny's nap went for far too long. Meaning they slept until 5:45.

Fleeing to their separate dorms for showers, Draco ended up getting to the Room of Requirement first, at around 5:55, right into the waiting jaws of Pansy Parkinson. The diva spent no time stripping him down and dressing him back up in his finery, muttering the whole time about how good of a friend she was and "I made the outfit myself, you should have the bloody decency to come on time."

Draco said sorry countless times, and urged her not to take it out on Ginny, who had yet to arrive.

"I can't take it out on Ginger, she's my project. I cannot _wait_ until I get to attack her." Pansy said, a manic glint in her cold eyes. Attack meaning dress up, of course.

Right as Pansy put the finishing touches on Draco's hair, Ginny entered, panting, her hair a huge fluffy mess. "I'm so sorry! I... we overslept and-"

"No time. Draco already told me. Get in that room." Pansy ordered, and the door to the other room opened as she said it. This room really was hers.

That had been 15 minutes ago. Blaise and Draco looked simply amazing even slouching in wooden chairs designed to keep their owner's posture. Meaning they went through a lot of trouble to sloth around. And they still looked sublime.

Both suits they wore had been cut to emphasize their trim and lithe figures. Thin legged black pants, fitted coats, Draco's having tails and Blaise's being a double-button suit. Instead of the original plan of a white shirt underneath his coat, they opted for a black shirt instead, playing on Blaise's natural darkness.

Draco stuck with his (Pansy's) original plan with only one small difference. The deep red vest peeked out from under the slim tailcoat, enough to entice, and the bow-tie against the white shirt contrasted astonishingly. Draco's mask, originally black, was now a shining gold.

Both boys wore shiny black dress shoes. Overall, two dashing dates.

It was now 6:45. The dinner before the ball started at 7:00 sharp, and they wanted a table to themselves.

"Girls will be girls." Blaise said randomly, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back.

Draco nodded, still keeping his eyes at the crack under the door where he would periodically see a shadow pass. He stopped himself from calling out to her to hurry, knowing there would be a cold response about being on time, blah blah blah.

Suddenly they heard and saw the handle of the door twist and out stepped Pansy. They were on their feet as if it were royalty that had come out. Which it was, if you think about it.

If there was ever the perfect body for a model, it belonged to Pansy "Pancake" Parkinson. A long, thin body topped with a head of long dark hair. Sharp, royal features and dark eyes took the cake. Her deep purple dress hung slinkily over her skinny frame, flowing down to about 6 inches off the floor in the front, and skimming it in the back of the dress. Simple but fierce black pumps covered her toes and gave her even more height. Her make-up was dark, hovering in a sassy middle zone between cat-eyes and smokey-eyes, with light pink lip gloss. Her dark, long hair was parted directly down the middle for once, giving her a terrifyingly beautiful, model-esque look to her whole outfit.

All in all, amazing. Next to the thin Blaise, they would be a knockout.

Draco and Blaise let out appreciative "Oooh"s as she walked with certainty over to Blaise.

"Thank god, I was thinking I was going to look better than you. Now I know it's the other way around, my queen." Blaise said, bowing and grabbing her hand for a kiss.

"Shut up, suck-face." Pansy muttered, though looking smug at the praise. She then turned to Draco. "You ready, Dragon?"

Clearly Ginny had told her about the nickname.

"I'm never ready for how beautiful she looks." He said in all honesty. "Though dress-up Ginny... I..."

Pansy just smirked. "Gingerbread, my love, show the boys what you can do with a little bit of red fabric."

There was a great moment of anticipation... that soon passed. Nothing was happening.

"Red, we need to get going." Blaise called, earning two punches from his friends.

"Are you sure this is OK, Pancake?" Ginny's uncertain voice wobbled from behind the door.

Pansy put her hand on her face in exasperation. "Just come out."

The door opened and out stepped a real life princess.

Blaise's nickname suited her well, for she wore red like no one else ever could. The dress had a cupped corset and a sloping back, exposing much (but not too much) lovely skin. It was fitted until it passed the hips, whereby it fell widely to just above the floor. The color of the amazing dress was almost the same as her hair, a deep red, though the sheer fabric was a slight shade darker. Barely noticeable, but still there. Like Pansy's, her dress was shorter in the front and trailing a wee bit in the back. This exposed her T-strap, matte gold, toe-covering heels.

She wore a small necklace of gold with a charm that dipped a few inches under her collarbones, leading the eyes tantalizingly downward to the curve of her sizable breasts. Her deep red hair was set in a loose, almost messy french-braid that looped around her head and finished over one shoulder. Lightly curled bangs swung perfectly on her forehead, just barely reaching her sharp eyebrows.

Her make-up was strongly drawn cat-eyes with long lashes and dark eyeshadow softly lining her lower rim.

Her cheeks were dusted lightly with gold and light red, giving her a glow that none of them had ever seen. Bright, powerfully red lipstick sealed the deal on her gorgeous face. Ginny had long dangley gold earrings that featured a large, thin, dewdrop shaped yellow stone, the bottom of which flirted with the edges of her collarbones as she moved.

To top it all of, a small yet beautiful golden tiara rested in her hair, shining beautifully from the dark red locks. A princess indeed.

Draco was speechless. He just looked at the shining girl before him and couldn't believe she was his for the night. For the night and forever, as he couldn't imagine letting her go now.

"Pansy, you outdid yourself." Blaise muttered, throwing a long arm over her shoulders.

Clearly nervous, Ginny muttered, "Is this good?"

Her apprehension only made her cuter.

In two long strides, Draco walked to her and embraced her in an enveloping hug, causing both her and Pansy to cry out, the latter more with, "Don't you _dare_ mess her up."

"I don't want anyone else to see you." Draco whispered into her hair, careful lest he mar it.

"That, good, eh?" Ginny seemed to get back to her comfortable old self when she was in his arms, a fact which he didn't fail to note. "Took a load of poking and prodding, but in the end I was acceptable to Pancake."

"You blow acceptable out of the water." He muttered, still hugging her with no intention of letting go for a while.

"You two are disgusting." Blaise muttered, pretending to vomit. "We need to go. At this rate, we'll make an even greater entrance, adding arriving late to this heinous taboo." After saying this, he turned to Pansy with his eyebrows raised, as if asking whether or not she approved.

"Stop imitating me." Pansy muttered, though there was a hint of a smile amidst the hardened edge.

After Draco finally separated from Ginny, they left the room and after ten minutes (the slow pace due to the heels), they made it to the ball.

And with this, we are back to the present. Gingerbread and Dragon holding hands, ascending the stairs to their doom.

* * *

"Who's the red with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry Potter, who had been actually looking forward to this ball, didn't look up upon hearing this. He honestly didn't want to stop looking at his lovely date. Never before had he or anyone else seen Luna look like this.

She was clad in a shimmering silver dress that fell perfectly over her skinny frame. Luna looked ethereal with loose, large, neat curls and light, silver themed make-up. To top it off, she had made a strange yet beautiful white feathered mask.

"I didn't know there were any redheads in Slytherin."

"There aren't."

But despite Luna's beauty, he couldn't keep his ears from tuning in on the conversation at the adjacent table. At the second mention of red hair, his stomach gave a lurch. Anything red reminded him of Ginny, who Melanie had told him wasn't attending the ball.

He was glad she wasn't here, to be honest. It was one thing to see her every day, but to see her in all her beauty would be too much. Harry felt that Luna sensed that as well, and put extra effort into looking as amazing as she did tonight.

"Er... Ron." Hermione muttered, her eyes scanning the crowd. She was looking nice as well with a deep blue cocktail dress and blue lacy mask. "Do you have your wand on you?"

Ron, who already started eating the lavish meal, looked up at her oddly. "Er..." He looked over at Harry quickly, clearly thinking it was some kind of test. "No.. er... yes?"

She shook her head sadly. Upon closer inspection, she looked angry. "Yes or no?"

"No." He answered, biting his lip cutely.

Hermione's stiff posture relaxed as he said this. "Harry, what about you?"

Harry, being Harry, always kept his wand on him at all times. Because of his he just nodded. "Why?"

Her cheeks, already pinkish with blush, flamed at this. "Nothing! Just... nothing."

Neither Ron nor Harry, or Luna for that matter, believed her. They all just stared pointedly, watching her crumble under the mysterious magic of peer pressure.

Finally... she broke. "Ginny is here."

Harry and Ron both turned their necks to observe the smattering of circular tables so fast, Hermione jumped. There was a budding fear in Harry at this, but not because of her presence. Because of the clues his ears had picked up. But it couldn't be true. There was no way she was... No.

Knowing she had to say it, Hermione took a steadying breath. "Ginny is here with Draco Malfoy as her date."

* * *

A resounding "WHAT?" was heard from somewhere across the hall, causing Ginny to wince. She knew that voice.

Draco noticed the lovely girl's unease and cutely scooted his chair closer to her, making a huge show of it in order to possible get a smile from the redhead. It was a success, her smile was small and pretty, but her brow was still furrowed in worry. They were now almost touching knees, and one more scoot would accomplish it.

The dashing date himself knew he should be more protective and caring towards his beautiful charge, but he was finding it difficult to stop _looking at her_. Everything was so beautiful. She radiated like the sun, something he, nor other people he was acquainted with could understand or duplicate. She was the sun, and everything he knew was like the moon.

Ginny was restless, picking at her food, taking audibly deep breaths. Her insides felt like they were vibrating, as if she had drunk 7 too many cups of coffee. She jumped when a cold hand lightly folded its fingers into hers, successfully stopping her shaking. Looking up at the man next to her, clear apprehension and discomfort shone from the hazel depths.

"You are the strongest girl I know..." Draco muttered, smiling lightly. "Why are you so afraid of this?"

A valid question. To be combated, of course, with an equally valid answer.

"Because there's nothing to fight yet."

Before she could even realize, he had leaned in to touch his forehead to hers lightly as they had done before on their picnic. The contact was light, but oddly calming. Ginny closed her eyes as Draco raised his hand to place it on her cheek softly. "We've already won."

She finally showed a true smile.

"Malfoy I will give you 5 seconds to get as far away from her as you can or else I will destroy you."

Which would then completely disappear.

The couple pulled away from each other to look up at a menacing Harry Potter. Behind him stood a livid Ron Weasley who looked as if he was suffocating from anger. Hermione and Luna stood behind, the latter with nothing but a look of innocent curiosity on her face.

Game time. Draco's time to shine.

The blond didn't even get up from his chair. He simply draped his arm over Ginny's chair-back and turned his body slightly to look over his shoulder. "5 seconds? Don't I at _least_ get 10 for dressing her up so wonderfully?"

Harry's keen eyesight didn't fail to notice their legs now touching. His green eyes narrowed.

"Wha—er... wha-why... wait..." Ron spluttered, finally moving to Harry's side. He was tall, Draco realized from his sitting position. _Almost_ intimidatingly so. "What... what the HELL-"

Ginny could stand by and let this happen. It went against the core of her being. "Don't take credit for Pansy's work, Draco." she said lightly, smirking. Her bright eyes fell on her brother. "Red looks good on everybody, doesn't it?"

The attempted joke about their hair colour and Draco's matching mask and tie combo took a flaming nosedive into the ground.

"Ginny!" Harry barked, taking a step closer. At this, Draco stood. "Sit down, Malfoy. I don't know what bloody spell you cast on her to make her come as your date, but so help me I-"

"What a conclusion to jump to." Ginny said, her face setting into a dangerous frown. "You don't know _anything_."

The last word came out like poison and everyone felt it. Most of the hall was listening now, but the combatants didn't care. This had to be settled.

"I know you're using him to get to me." Harry muttered flatly, his hand twitching close to what Ginny could tell was his wand pocket.

Draco couldn't take this. 7 years of hatred for Harry Potter was about to accumulate into an iron defense to protect the girl he cared dearly for. "Classic Potter. Everything on earth seems to add to your ego. You think this is about you?"

It was bound to happen. And it was happening now. Draco versus Harry.

Harry was taken aback, allowing Draco to begin to close the spacial gap between them with a long stride. "You actually believe that Ginny and I are together because you hurt her so bad? I seem to recall it was _you_ that was destroyed, egg-lip."

Harry's hands balled into fists. "There is no way she would be with someone like you. She hates you and you hate her. What better way to get back at me than to fake being with my enemy? She's just playing the scorned woman!"

"Excuse-" Ginny tried to jump in, but Draco beat her to it.

"Are you an imbecile?" He hissed, taking off his mask because he deemed it in the way of his wrath. "You simply assume that because of years of supposed hatred this is just a fake show?"

He realized then that his argument was actually in favor of Harry's. Draco was so flustered at Harry's egotism that he couldn't even form a solid point. He had never before been so fiery and well... stupid. Like a Gryffindor. "God damn it, it doesn't even matter! You are clearly unable to see past your own fat head, Potter. Now listen to me."

Harry took off his own mask and took a step closer to his nemesis. Draco matched his step. "You can insult me all you bloody well want, but if you even say one _word_ against Ginny Weasley, I will curse you so badly you will live for a thousand years in agony."

As fast as quicksilver, Draco's demeanor changed. His face softened and he turned to walk back to his table, refastening his mask. Before reaching Ginny, however, he turned back and said, "Anyways, you're clearly still completely in love with her."

Critical hit. Harry actually took a few steps back, essentially tagging out for Ron to come in. And for once, the keeper didn't take a stupid, loud approach. "Gin..."

His tone was soft and strangely loving. He didn't even bother talking to Draco. "Ginny."

Feeling the need to step in, Ginny stood and moved towards her older brother. His face was absolutely unreadable. "What is going on?"

Ginny sighed and avoided shooting Harry a glare as she so wanted to. "I asked Draco to the ball. Simple as that."

"That is a lie!" Harry got his groove back. "There is no way the Ginny I know would do something like this!"

Draco reached to pull Ginny back, but it was far too late. Harry's dumbass comment was the spark that ignited the gunpowder. "Did you listen to ANY of the reasons WHY I BROKE UP WITH YOU? DID YOU EVER LISTEN TO ME AT ALL?"

Knowing this would be bad, Draco grabbed one of her hands and rubbed it soothingly, attempting to head off what may result in the murder of the Boy-Who-Lived. He didn't want her staining her hands. But dear Merlin, she looked absolutely astonishing when she was livid.

His action worked for the most part, a fact Harry noticed. That Draco was actually able to calm her down meant something towards whatever relationship they had. He himself was never able to calm her down. Never. His heart felt like it had been stabbed at the thought of it.

"You only knew the girl you attempted to turn me into." Ginny said, carefully controlling ever word. "And you want to know something else? I do _not_ care about your opinion."

Harsh. Ginny twisted the knife she had already embedded in his chest.

"I do not care if you question what you see before you. You can chose to believe it or not. Regardless, I know that this thing I have with Dracois more raw and powerful than anything you and I ever shared. I don't even care if you believe it. Nothing you think matters to me anymore." She said simply, ending it.

"Ginny. When you were futzing with his hair..." Ron asked quietly, stepping in front of the completely defeated Harry Potter.

"I had just asked him to go to the ball with me." she replied, displaying a calm that really shouldn't have been there given the situation.

"I don't believe it." Ron said simply, shaking his head. His rage from before had dissipated into a sort of kicked-puppy depression.

"Ginny and I are dating..." Draco declared proudly, even puffing out his chest a little.

Ginny was completely taken aback. He had made it clear _that very afternoon_ that they had no label and certainly wouldn't be called dating if there were. One look at his face, however, dispelled all uncertainties. He was telling the truth.

"... come what may." He added. The solidity of his tone seemed to seal it. There. Done.

To Ginny, all the spectators seemed to vanish. She looked at him, her face full of raw, nondescript emotion. Draco simply gazed back at her fondly, his eyes softer than she had ever seen. Controlling herself, Ginny's face contorted into a devilish grin. "So we're dating now?"

"Believe it, love."

Harry started making some sort of unintelligent noise, but a light hand on his arm silenced him. It was Luna.

"Let it go." She said before smiling to her ginger friend and nodding cordially to Draco. "Ginny, I wish you luck."

"Luna!" Ron and Harry cried in unison, outraged that she would say such a thing.

Luna took no heed of them and even stepped right in front of the two men. "If it really is what it seems to them to be, then no amount of raging or pleading will deter it."

It took everyone in the clearing a few moments to translate that one into normal-person speech. Ginny, being used to her bizarre diction, seemed to break. She rushed to her friend and embraced her in nothing short of a tackle. As such, the two friends fell back into Harry (of all people), who had no choice but to catch them both.

Luna was extremely surprised at the sudden contact, but her face drifted back into its normal aloofness as Ginny hugged her. Harry, after steadying the pair, took his hands off of Ginny as though he had been burned.

In fact, he had been burned, but it wasn't his hands. The all-too familiar searing in his scar left as soon as it came, but it was enough to cause a sharp intake of breath.

"Harry?" Asked the ever-observant Hermione, bustling in her skirts over to his side. "Your scar?"

Draco saw this entire exchange, a calculating look on his face. Harry was defensive because of his brief show of weakness, and snapped, "What are you looking at, ferret?"

Choosing not to dignify the insult with a response, he looked to Ginny who had recently released Luna. Harry had touched the bare skin on her back and as a result his scar burned. More and more connections Draco was almost too afraid to link.

"Let's go back." Luna said lightly, sensing something strange just as Draco had. "It'll be dessert soon."

Knowing the battle was over, the Gryffindor troupe turned to leave, with the exception of the resident redhead. Ron stayed, concentrating his gaze on Ginny tenderly before switching to glare at Draco, the chance so abrupt the blond almost jumped.

"Hurt her and I will kill you."

In a surprising display of camaraderie, Draco nodded. "I'd die before letting that happen."

Returning the gesture with a nod of his own, Ron turned to leave, jogging to catch up with his date.

After a few moments the hall started to get noisy again, the students eagerly discussing what on earth had just happened. Ginny gazed softly in the direction they left, hands up by her lips in comfort. Draco approached her and enveloped her in a strong embrace from behind, saying nothing and resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Did that just happen?" She finally asked, grabbing his clasped hands with her own. "Because there was no way that could have just happened."

Draco chuckled, squeezing her hands. "I do believe that just happened, yes."

"Well, shit."

They both heard Pansy clear her throat behind them, still sitting at the table. "So help me, if you messed up her hair, Draco..."

Ginny broke from his embrace yet continued to hold one of his hands with her own. They turned back to the table, taking in Pansy sitting regally, examining her nails and Blaise leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table. Classic.

"Thanks for your help, twat." Draco growled at the former, taking his original seat.

Blaise just shrugged. "You handled it quite fine on your own."

"You two certainly have a flair for drama." Pansy commented lightly, reaching over to fix some small, unseeable imperfection in Ginny's hair. It was a _clearly_ a heavy display of support and affection.

There was a huge weight off the shoulders of the Gingerbread Dragon, but in the absence of overwhelming nerves, there was a strange limbo. Now what? Ginny was the first to bring it up, well after dinner ended and people were in the throes of dancing.

"So..." She muttered, looking at Draco was a hint of cute confusion. Now they could... actually go to the dance like a normal couple. Ginny and Draco both just wanted to be close to each other again.

He slumped in his posture, putting his chin in his hand. "I suppose we should dance."

She had to laugh at that. It seemed so strange that that was what they were here for, in the end. She stood, Draco duplicating the action and holding out his hand lightly for her to take.

As luck would have it, as they finally approached the floor, the band switched to a slow song. He sauntered onto the floor, pulling her lightly, and Ginny couldn't help but realize how much he really belonged in high society situations like this. His posture and calm air, clearly the result of carefully cultivated breeding, just shone with radiance and regality.

He let go of her hand and bowed slow to her in perfect time to the music. In light of his debonair beauty and obviously subsequent dancing skills, Ginny immediately doubted her own abilities. She had never been taught to dance, really.

Draco noticed her hesitation and straightened out of his bow, the cocky, refined look on his face being replaced instantly by a strange sort of concern.

She owed him an explanation, albeit a simple one. "I can't dance."

This didn't deter him. "Good thing you wouldn't be leading. Dancing with another, above all, relies on trust."

Ginny was shaking her head slowly, not wanting to embarrass herself now of all times.

"Do you trust me?" Draco asked lightly, taking a step closer, taking her hands in his own.

It seemed as if there was a double, no, tenfold meaning to the question. Embarrassed by her own fear, Ginny nodded strongly. This was no mere dance, and they both knew it.

Satisfied, Draco lifted her off the ground and placed her feet on his and before Ginny could get a handle on herself, they were twirling about. Her light red skirts caught any hint of movement and seemed to magically transcend the laws of physics. Still slightly shocked, Ginny relaxed and rested her head against his chest.

"Who are you, my dad?" Ginny asked lightly, noting how easily and gracefully he moved, despite her weight on his feet. She didn't even need to move. Draco heard the music start its crescendo, and smirked.

"Gotta love incest."

He interrupted her laughter with a hard, true kiss, stopping his slow revolutions across the floor. He had kissed her right at the climax of the music. That boy knew how to be romantic.

Draco was absolutely head over heels for this girl. He had seen how anxious she had been before the confrontation, and he also saw her throw away the fear and summon this huge defensive power. Like a lioness protecting her cub, almost. Just seeing the range of her emotions was... and her powerful beauty was just... Draco just wanted to kiss her for days.

It needed to be perfect. The kiss needed to be perfect. Complete with a musical crescendo. Draco had the romantic thing down pat.

Ginny... did not know how to be romantic. She smiled widely, not even thinking to kiss back. It was as if she was suddenly filled with a bright warm light, and all she could do was just smile. Laugh. She began to laugh, just _so happy_.

Being thrown for a loop by this, Draco placed his hands on both of her cheeks and pulled her in deeper. She began to respond to this, going up on her tip-toes to get closer to his touch. He snaked one of his hands down her neck, his fingers lingering there before running down her exposed back.

Ginny didn't know what to think. His sudden action seem to destroy all thoughts in her head. Suddenly it hit her. _Wha—OH. _

She felt Draco's smile on her lips as she grabbed the front of his suit jacket with both hands and pulled herself into the rapidly deepening kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, meeting his hungrily.

Off to a rocky start, but with each passing moment, their kissing got more heated and intense. The people around them seemed inconsequential, almost as if they weren't there.

But they most certainly were. Someone bumped into Draco from behind, shoving him forward into Ginny's face and ending the kiss abruptly.

Angry, Draco tried to pull away and shoot some cruel, witty remark, but found that he and Ginny's masks were... stuck together. Somehow, probably because of the elaborate lace and wire configurations, they had gotten caught on each other.

"Are you serious?" Draco growled, bumping foreheads with Ginny in fear of breaking the mask.

She just giggled. "Best first kiss. Ever."

* * *

Review please. The more I get, the faster I update.

And the plot is going to start actually moving soon, I promise.

Love you all.


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